


Chronicles of a Useless Lesbian

by vainamoinen



Series: Lesbians in Space [1]
Category: Original Work, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Feels, Depression, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Lesbian Character, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Time Travel, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, dark side force healing, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vainamoinen/pseuds/vainamoinen
Summary: Perhaps this entire journey was a fluke. And yet… and yet. If it was a fluke, perhaps it was one created by the will of the Force.
Relationships: Ancalaga/Violence, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Victrix Invictus/Angst
Series: Lesbians in Space [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876819
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anyone and everyone that decided to click on this and go for a read! There’s a few things you might want to know before you begin, so I’ve created this introduction. However, if you’d prefer to fly in blind, go ahead and and scroll on down, where the story begins.
> 
> Chronicles of a Useless Lesbian is a story set in the Star Wars universe that uses both original and cannon characters. It’s the story of my character’s journey (and our DM’s character’s journey) in our SW table-top roleplaying game, to be more precise. It’s a trip to ‘Area Angst’ with a heavy dose of romance and adventure. I’ll let you know up front that there is dissociation, torture, violence, self-harm, and suicide attempts in it, so if any of those are triggering to you, I don’t recommend you read this fic, because Victrix suffers from a heavy dose of PTSD and depression. This is also not a fic with ‘good’ characters- Victrix has fallen to the dark side, and the person she falls in love with is Evil with a capital ‘E’. 
> 
> To give you the lowdown, below is an announcement that I’ve created in the style of the animated Clone Wars series, so if you’ve watched that series, please read it in the style of Tom Kane:
> 
> FORMER JEDI GENERAL VICTRIX INVICTUS FINDS HERSELF TRAPPED THREE THOUSAND YEARS IN THE PAST WITH NO WAY BACK. HAVING FOUND HERSELF STUCK ON A SHIP WITH A YOUNGER VERSION OF HER DARK MASTER, SHE MOPES ABOUT AND WONDERS HOW TO PROCEED. HAVING FALLEN TO THE DARK SIDE, SHE’S FACED WITH NO OTHER CHOICE THAN TO TAKE THE ASPIRANT TRIALS AT THE SITH ACADEMY IN AN ATTEMPT TO GAIN ENOUGH POWER TO RETURN HOME.
> 
> I hope you have as good a time reading it as I have had writing it. May the Force be with you always.

Victrix rested her head on the stiff cot she had been loaned for the trip. She’d slept on worse before, but sleep seemed elusive this evening (not that evening really existed in the depths of space). Another night had passed and despite using the full reach of her power she was still unable to call the Umbra to her will- if she hadn’t used it to bring herself so far back in time she’d think herself pathetic still. Perhaps she was. Perhaps this entire journey was a fluke. And yet… and yet. If it was a fluke, perhaps it was one created by the will of the Force. How else was one to explain that she arrived at  _ this _ time, and on  _ this _ ship, with  _ that _ person? 

Ancalaga- that was her name.  _ Her _ name. Victrix had considered killing her when she first got here- it was certainly simpler than the other options. Even if Ancalaga was stronger than her, the spar the other day had proven that she could be taken by surprise, and the gap in their strength was unbelievably smaller than it had been. Even now Victrix was working on gaining her trust- it was almost easy to act subservient to her, considerate of her opinions, seeking her guidance. Certainly easier than it had been in the future, or the past, however the frack you’d describe it. If Victrix betrayed her now, perhaps that future would never come to pass- or perhaps it would, and her actions would simply split the timeline into a different universe. Perhaps that had already happened, Force only knew. What she wouldn’t give to have her padawan safe and whole again, anger issues and all. Ky’Tara’s fate rested heavy on her soul, eating away at the little bits of joy she might take throughout a day, leaving only a bleak expanse of grey in a world once filled with colour. Even the once-soothing taste of tea was like grimy ash in her mouth. If killing Ancalaga now had even a chance of preventing Ky’Tara’s death…

On the other hand, there was the traditional Jedi option- try to prevent Ancalaga’s turning. If she never turns to the dark, never leaves the Order, never becomes the Emperor’s hand, then she would never face Ky’Tara on the battlefield, never cause Ky’Tara to make that terrible sacrifice. But how would Victrix even go about that? Months of study and meditation for herself, working with a Dark artifact, slowly trying to heal the wound in the Force, willing that scar to dissolve, finally finding a tentative peace within herself, and then it all fractured in the wake of that day. Taking her Dark Master’s hand had been a step towards vengeance- both towards Furion and the Order. If the Jedi couldn’t teach her enough to defend those placed in her care, feared her growing power, deliberately leaving her in ignorance, thus helping their very enemies, then damn the Jedi. And if Furion thought for one moment that Victrix had taken her hand purely out of a lust for power, well, she’d get what’s coming to her either way. That is, if Victrix could ever actually grow in power, rather than crawling along like the pathetic worm she has been. 

She turned on her side, still restlessly mulling over the paths before her. Even if preventing Ancalaga’s turn  _ was _ an option, how would Victrix be able to manage that? She couldn’t even stay on the Light side herself- even now the call of the Dark sung to her, sweetly sick in her head. The innocents she had slaughtered, the good man she had tried to murder in cold blood- she was horrified at her own actions, but that Dark song in her rejoiced when thinking of the blood coating her hands, and she became yet more disgusted with herself for the part of her that  _ enjoyed _ the killing. No, she was not fit for preventing someone else’s fall.

How then was she to proceed? Continue with this farce of an infiltration? She had played along with the thought of learning from the true Sith herself scuttling around in the back of her head. Surely, if she followed this path, there was more to learn, and knowledge  _ is _ power- and through power she would gain victory, if that ridiculous code was to be believed. It had worked for Ancalaga, to bring her far enough along to become Furion. Perhaps it could work for her as well. And then, after she had gained her power, she could bring herself back to the future and murder Furion-

A thought struck her and she sat ramrod straight in her bed. She could bring herself back- but if she could aim  _ just right _ this time, she could bring herself back  _ before _ . Before her padawan’s death, before even handing over that fracking lightsaber to Talina fracking Ordo. She could prevent Furion’s resurrection, the mobilized droid army, the release of that blasted Force Spirit again- and this time, her apprentice would be  _ alive _ \- alive and breathing and knighted and… able to fight again in that sodding war. But if Victrix could bring herself back  _ before _ the war, perhaps she could give the correct information to the Order in time to stop it-

The Order. Even if Victrix brought herself back, the order wouldn’t listen to a Fallen Jedi. For all they knew, she could be setting them up. But the lives she could save if she prevailed, if they listened… It was food for thought. Firstly, and most importantly, she needed to become more powerful. If she wanted to bring herself back to the right point in time, she needed power and control over the Umbra, period. She looked at the shadows in the corner of her small room and sighed. Flipping the blanket off she got up to try again- an Umbral Cloak is the first step, and she  _ would _ create one.

\---

Victrix groaned and awoke to the beeping of the alarm she had set. She had stayed up late last night trying again and again to grasp the Umbra- and for a brief moment in the middle of those dark hours she thought she had clutched a wisp of it, but then it had slipped from her hands, like sharp shards of ice melting through the cracks of her fingers. Disappointment still stung the last remaining shreds of her pride.

She got up and shut off the alarm, then went to the ‘fresher to wash her face, the cold water waking her up a bit more. After wrapping up the sensitive skin around her orbital sockets and fixing her brown hair into a fast braid, she left her room to make herself some breakfast. Sensing the other presence in the dining area, she flexed her hand and sorely wished for her lightsaber. Even the broken remains would do- she had enough experience building them now she could put hers back together. The silver crystal was no doubt still stuck in whatever security locker that the Judge had stored it in when she was captured. Missing it was like having a constant itch beneath her skin, a rash that got worse when she was around other people. 

She gave Tokrev a friendly nod as she walked over to make herself another morning bowl of cardboard-tasting oats. He grunted back at her and kept his attention on his food. Thank the Force for small mercies. Her thoughts wandered back to the spar the day before yesterday where he told her to never let known her weaknesses. More fool was he. Letting your enemies be aware of your obvious weaknesses was the easiest way of giving them an obvious weapon against her, one that she could calculate coming, while they didn’t look for further weapons to attack her with- ones that would be more deadly. Letting those she wanted to seem friendly towards know her most obvious weakness was even better- it gave them the illusion that she trusted them, and would go to them for guidance, and in the meantime she got honest advice on how to fix those very weaknesses. It also came with the benefit of making her “teacher” feel emotionally attached to her and responsible for her growth. Jedi have always been predictable, even when she was one. It was appearing that the Sith would be the same, which was at the same time both disappointing and not.

Tokrev was just getting up to leave as Ancalaga walked in, yawning. “Late night?” Victrix asked. 

Ancalaga looked at her. “Sleep was elusive- one hour I’d have it, the next not so much.”

Tokrev’s seemingly permanent frown deepened. “You should be well-rested for our arrival tomorrow.”

Ancalaga flashed him a smirk. “I’m glad to know you care.” 

He scowled at her and put his dish in the washer, then left the room. “Tea?” Victrix offered.

“Yes, please,” Ancalaga replied, taking the seat Tokrev had vacated.

“Sure thing,” Victrix said, and she started a pot for them both. Ancalaga propped her feet up on the chair next to her and let down her hair. The blonde strands gleamed between her fingers as she brushed the tangles out her hair with the pale digits before putting it back up in a bun. The sides of her head would need to be shaved again soon, as there was peach fuzz re-growing there. It looked soft. The shrill whistle of the teapot startled Victrix, and she turned around to pour them cups. She swallowed to wet her too-dry mouth. “Any new plans for the day?” She asked as she passed a mug to Ancalaga. “Or same-old, same-old until tomorrow morning?”

“Bored with us already?”

“With you? No. With hyperspace travel? Yes. I feel like every time I leave solid ground might be my last.”

“Perhaps you should be more concerned with what will happen the next time you reach solid ground. I know I’ve already given you supplies, but do you have a plan for your aspirant trial?” 

Victrix took a sip of her steaming tea, giving her time to ponder her response. “I’m vaguely familiar with Korriban’s geography and habitat. I’ll try to avoid tuk’ata and fellow aspirants, but if worst comes to worst perhaps I can pit them against each other. My strength is within the Force, so despite my lack of weapon I don’t feel terribly afraid, though I’ll admit I am at a disadvantage. If I do end up fighting another aspirant I can always take theirs. No fires at night- I don’t want that kind of attention. Camp in ruins, or cave outlooks near the tombs if I can find them, if worst comes to worst and I can’t make it through the valley in a day. Try my best to ignore the voices-“

“Voices?” Interrupted Ancalaga.

“Oh, I’d forgotten you hadn’t been to Korriban yet. Less like voices, more like whispers. It’s very creepy, and suits Korriban’s bleak environment.”

“I’m curious as to when you’d have had a chance to visit Korriban. Have the Sith been purged from it? Is it a popular tourist destination in your time? No, wait, don’t tell me.” The blonde sighed and massaged a temple. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Me neither. I was thinking on that very issue last night, it’s kept me up, but I think I have an idea on how to proceed.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Well, practice makes perfect,” she hedged. “There are ways of manipulating the Umbra without directly affecting space and time- easier ways, but still not easy.”

Ancalaga dropped her feet and leaned forward, eyes bright with interest. “What kind of ways?”

“Ways that I can’t actually accomplish yet, despite my trying.”

“Is that why we have matching dark circles today?”

Victrix laughed. “I don’t have eyes to have circles under, and even if I did, you certainly couldn’t see them under my wrap!”

Ancalaga’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “You seem tired enough to have circles there. You should take Tokrev’s advice yourself, or are these mysterious ways of yours dependent on your lack of sleep?”

“You’re like a kath hound with a bone, aren’t you?”

“What can I say,” replied Ancalaga, “I’m a scholar of the Umbra, and you’re my best link to it so far.”

“So far? Does that mean if someone else comes along you’ll leave me all by my lonesome?”

“I’m sorry to say you may be right- that is, if you keep avoiding the topic.”

Victrix’s lips twitched into a smirk. “If you insist then.”

“I do.”

“There’s…” Victrix hesitated, trying to find the words to best describe it. Words often escaped her around other people, but for Ancalaga she would try. Only to win her trust, of course. “There’s a way to reach into the Umbra and form it to your desires. I haven’t seen it with anything else besides a cloak yet, but theory dictates that it’s possible for other items as well.”

“How does that work?”

“I’m not quite sure, which is probably why I’m having so much difficulty replicating it.”

“Will you show me?”

Sensing Victrix’s hesitation, Ancalaga pushed. “Perhaps a first set of eyes would help?”

Victrix snorted softly with mirth. “If I say yes, will you keep making eye jokes?”

“Eye don’t know, eye don’t see why not. Unless it’s eye-ffensive to you?”

“You’re dreadful.” Victrix tossed the rest of her tea back and went to put her mug in the washer. “Very well, but not here.”

They tread over to Victrix’s room, and she engaged the lock behind them and shut off the lights. 

“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?” Ancalaga teased.

A curl of amusement in Victrix’s chest loosened her tense muscles, though the knot of anxiety still remained. “I thought the pretty one was supposed to be bought dinner?”

Ancalaga’s voice was smug. “Exactly.” 

Victrix laughed and walked over to the darkest corner of the small chamber, and Ancalaga followed, closely observing her every movement. Victrix took a deep breath and focused her Force sense, reaching out into the darkness both physically and with the intangible wave of energy that flowed through all things. Her fingers brushed the wall-  _ nothing _ . 

Ancalaga hummed behind her and moved closer. Victrix could feel the blonde’s breath rustle the loose hairs on the side of her face. Ancalaga’s height allowed her to easily reach over the Miraluka’s shoulder and put her hand over Victrix’s. “I don’t quite see what you’re trying to do, will you…?”

“Show you? Yes.” Victrix recalled the last time she had taught someone to feel the Umbra, and the resulting damage that came of it. Still, she slipped her fingers through Ancalaga’s and once more reached out with the Force, this time tugging at Ancalaga’s presence. 

Her first, and most primal, sense was… warmth. Goosebumps prickled along Victrix’s body, following the tender sensation. She inhaled, and noticed her breathing was already in tune with Ancalaga’s. Ancalaga spoke. “You’re very… cold.”

It felt as though someone had spilled a glass of ice water over Victrix’s head. “I hope it’s not too unpleasant.” There was a hollow, aching feeling in her chest. 

“Not at all. You remind me of those dark, frozen lakes on Ilum, the ones with the geysers below them. And the deeper you swim the warmer it gets, until you’ve gone too far and suddenly instead of freezing to death you’re boiling alive.”

“That’s… descriptive.”

“I  _ do  _ try.”

Victrix huffed and tugged at the small sun that was Ancalaga’s presence, ignoring the feeling of  _ rightness _ . She reached out and Ancalaga followed her, until their currents in the Force ran as one. Directing their shared energy, a sudden idea formed in her head. Instead of simply reaching out into the dark, hoping to grasp at the shreds of shadow that lie there, Victrix directed them up, into where she knew the subtle strands of the Umbra lay webbed around them. Perhaps if she could once again tug at the threads, she could follow them down to where the women stood together in darkness. She reached up, and up, and even further than she had remembered having to reach before- and  _ there _ ! She skimmed a quick kiss of cold! Metaphysical hands greedy, she reached once more for the oily pitch- only for her grasp to go numb and slip away, and then suddenly she wasn’t there anymore, but plummeting back down into reality like her hands had given away at the edge of a cliff. 

For one immeasurable moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, but then she felt again the warmth of a summer day next to her, and she clung to that feeling and felt it cling to her as she came crashing back into her body. 

When she next became aware of her surroundings, she was laying one something soft, and… moving? The gentle staccato of a heartbeat sounded underneath her ear. 

“I understand why you appeared so ill-rested this morning.” Ancalaga’s voice sounded from beneath her.

“It’s not the worst backlash I’ve experienced, but it’s far from the best. I was unaware it would be that…intense. Sorry.” The apology sat sour in her mouth.

“It was worth it to understand more of the Umbra, and the process it takes to reach it. Perhaps it will get better with time.”

“Perhaps.”

“I appreciate you showing me.”

“No problem.”

“Though perhaps I should get back to focusing on our task ahead.”

“Of course.”

“Are you feeling well?”

“Well enough, why?”

“You’re still on top of me.” There was laughter in Ancalaga’s voice.

Victrix felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she said as she stood. She offered a hand to Ancalaga, who grasped it and pulled herself up. The calluses on her hand scratched against Victrix’s own. She had a strong grip, no doubt from years of intense physical training. The starlight gleamed across her cheekbones as they looked at each other. Ancalaga pulled away from her grasp and turned toward the door.

“Try not to get into any more trouble until tomorrow, you’ll need to save your luck for Korriban.” 

She unlocked it and left.

Victrix sat down on her cot and palmed her face. Bitter disappointment clawed in her throat, mixed with something she couldn’t quite identify. Loneliness, perhaps? Well, perhaps she wouldn’t be quite so alone if she didn’t manage to kriff everything up. There was her chance to show how useful she could be, and she failed. Again. 

_ Breathe _ , she thought to herself.  _ Just breathe. _

She picked up her discarded half-staff and got up to practice the lightsaber movements again, leaving the lights off. She  _ would _ get better.


	2. Chapter 2

The earth blazed blood-coloured below her feet, already staining her boots. No doubt it would soon coat all of her clothes in a cloud of crimson dust. Victrix sighed and marched on towards the Academy. The oppressive dark miasma of Korriban was already eating at her thoughts, whispering in her ears. The whispers had started before Ancalaga’s shuttle had dropped, had started as soon as Victrix had entered the red planet’s orbit in fact.

Ancalaga’s goodbye had been colder than expected. Perhaps the reality of how tainted Victrix is was finally making itself known to her. Perhaps it was simply her uselessness that caused it. No matter, that wasn’t the task she should be focusing on right now. She should put those thoughts out of her mind. But when she did…

_ Find me… find me… come to me child… _

The whispers started again. She could have sworn they weren’t this loud last time she was here, but she hadn’t been alone last time. She was alone now.

_ No… no… never alone… always with you… _

Victrix flexed her hands and ignored them. They had no control over her, though that didn’t mean she enjoyed listening to their nonsense babble. Trying to stay focused on her surroundings, she couldn’t help but to increase her smooth gait to a power walk. She heard howls, far in the distance. They echoed across the barren wasteland, the perfect soundtrack to this bleak and deadly planet.

_ Listen... listen… _

“Sod off,” she muttered to the voices. 

_ Listen… listen! _

“Force guide me, will you please shut up?!”

_ LISTEN! _

“I swear to all that is holy-“ the snarl of the hound was the only clue she had before a mass of skin and teeth launched itself at her. Barely dodging in time by throwing herself to the ground, the breath was knocked out of her lungs by the hard landing. The tuk’ata turned around and dove at her again, but this time she was prepared. Grabbing the beast out of the air with the Force, she threw it down into the rusty earth. 

“Fair’s fair, you kriffing beast.” Still alive, it started struggling to stand, so she dragged it into the air and slammed it down once more. It didn’t move again. 

The Force swirled around her in gentle eddies, murmuring a dark tune of death. She inhaled the scent of hot copper and got to her feet. Not sparing another glance towards the corpse, she continued on.

After another half-hour or so, she paused to take a precious sip of water. The whispers had started up again. 

_ Come find me… find me… _

Victrix let out an exasperated breath. “You can find my ass and kiss it,” she griped to herself as she marched towards the valley. She hadn’t been on this sithspit dirtball for three hours and she was already sick of it. Force guide her through the next day, for it would truly be a miracle if she made it to the Academy sane. The hours passed as the howls of the hounds grew closer. She stopped to scarf down some rations in the shadow of a ruined pillar, a short reprieve from the baking sun. 

_ In the dark… find me there, child… _

She moved on. Passing bones and rocks and the odd ruined building, the heat pounded against her, smothering her in sweat, and the odd, dry wind blew red grime that mixed with the dripping salt and stuck against her.  _ Perhaps I will appear as a natural Sith by the time I arrive, and they will not need the blood test, _ she thought sarcastically to herself. 

_ You are true Sith… take my hand and let me guide you… _

The hours passed, and a cave eventually came into view. Bones that would have been bleached by any other planet were as cherry as the dirt they lay on. A mostly-fresh body lay still on the bones, it’s limbs torn off, doubtlessly from the many scavenging creatures that resided here. Her own sore and tired body ached just from looking at it. 

_ I will soothe your worries… I will ease your pain… _

The baying of the tuk’ata grew ever closer. She moved towards the shaded cavity set in the mountains, whose red peaks jutted into the sky like the accusing skeleton of a dead god. The dark side rippled around her.

_ Careful… listen… _

She listened this time. As she slowly inched closer to the cave, she heard a hissing sound from the shade. She gave her force-sight time to adjust to the gloom, not wanting to be blind near such an obvious threat. The hissing didn’t stop as she drew closer, sticking to the edge of the cavern, carefully avoiding stepping on bones, or anything that might alert the creature to her presence. What appeared to be the twisted child of a centipede and a worm twisted before her in what appeared to be a slimy, possessed dance. The large creature opened it’s circular mouth, ringed with teeth, and chewed at one of it’s own legs- it had been trapped. Likely by someone who entered the cavern shortly before her- the creature couldn’t have been stuck for long, given how quickly it was chewing through it’s bound leg. Victrix carefully moved to the back of the tunnel, and as she did so strange carvings and writing soon began to appear on the walls. Strange- but vividly familiar. She was positive that if she had a datapad to take pictures of it that they would turn out just as blurry and corrupted as those she had given the council so long ago. 

_ I will teach you… and soon, in time, you will learn to see… _

She tread carefully through the old cave, that slowly before her eyes turned into a ruined tomb. The relentless gloom of the tomb was only punctuated by the odd hiss or distant scream. Each time, Victrix would pause before continuing on. 

_ One day, you will know no fear, because you will know no death… _

Every once in awhile, she had to climb over and around fallen relics or statues or pillars, and would think to herself,  _ Perhaps that is all that is left of this person. What a wasted legacy that would be, to only be remembered by people as an obstacle to get by.  _ Victrix hoped that she didn’t end up like that.

_ You will find me, and through me you shall remember all… there will be no secrets between us, no lies spoken between these lips… I will help forge a new eternity through you, and through you I shall be remembered… always... _

Victrix blinked. What was she doing, staring here at this broken face? Had she lost track of time? No, she had been listening to that voice…

“Enough!” She told herself. “Time to move on.” And so she did. Time passed while she ambled and scrambled through the ruins. Every now and then she’d come across one of those teethy-slug creatures (though none were as big as the one at the entrance), or a small tuk’ata pair, and she felt secure enough to simply grab the nearest statue with the Force and let it fly to clear her path.

_ Feel the Force calling you to me… discover me and seek a darker path to truth... _

Eventually she started growing weary, her limbs weighing her down, so she began to look out for a good place to rest- preferably higher up, away from the creatures that might come across her in her sleep. In due course after a bit of searching, she spied a ridge that might do nicely. Now, if she could just find a way to get up there, perhaps if she pulled herself up with that small ledge-

_ Beware! _

She let go just in time for the trap to shock the rocks, saving her from a temporary paralyzation. What she didn’t manage to dodge was the staff that knocked into her from behind. Her head slammed into the rock face and busted her nose. Quickly dodging to the left, the second blow missed her by a hair and clanked against stone. Laughter echoed in her ears- how many? Three people. She could do this, she just had to concentrate. 

“Loth-cat got your tongue, schutta?” One of her opponents called, as the one with the staff moved in for another blow. Too bad for him, there was a large and loose piece of rubble close by, and she was fast enough with the Force to smash him between it and the ruin wall beside him. 

There was silence as the chunk of rubble fell and echoed throughout the room, and then the man’s body slid wetly against the wall and plopped on the ground. There was almost a perfect profile of his body in glittering ruby against the wall.

“You’ll pay for that, bitch.”

The sharp hiss of an unsheathing blade resounded throughout the chamber. Victrix stood and faced her remaining enemies. A male twi’lek and a female chiss stood before her- the twi’lek had just drawn an intricate-looking blade. The chiss had a blaster pointed at Victrix, and grinned when they met eyes. “Time to die now!” 

Victrix bolted towards one of the pillars on the edge of the chamber, but not fast enough to dodge all the blaster fire. She grunted as she took a shot in the side before gaining cover, only to dive right back out of safety when ducking a blow that would have taken her head off. Another shot got her in the leg and she crumbled on it. She rolled on the floor, dodging a stab from the twi’lek, then tried to move the previous mass of rubble onto the chiss- except that smack to her head must have knocked her aim off, because she ended up throwing the corpse of their friend at her instead. Ignoring the outraged scream, Victrix turned back to the man just in time to use her good leg to kick his knee out before he managed to stab her. 

Seizing him with the Force, she threw him on top of the corpse and the woman, but before she could snatch at the rubble to end them all, a circular mouth of razor teeth grabbed her arm and chomped. Victrix screamed. 

Panicking, she yanked her arm out of the creature's mouth. It’s teeth kept a good chunk of her muscle, and she was sure if she looked closely she’d see straight to bone. She didn’t look closely. Instead, she threw it with the Force onto the pile of enemies in the center of the room. Unfortunately for her, the twi’lek had rolled off his companion already. Fortunately for her, the beast landed directly onto the chiss, and swiftly bit down onto the woman, turning her screams into bloody gurgles. 

The man hacked into the creature, sending it squealing away, before turning once again to Victrix. Perhaps she was losing too much blood, because her vision was starting to waver.  _ This isn’t over _ , she thought to herself, and managed to throw herself out of the way just in time to dodge his swing at her. Lying prone, she didn’t manage to elude his following stab, skewering her straight through the gut. Victrix screamed again, but channeled her pain into the Force, wrenching the man down onto the stone floor beside her. 

Moving through the pain, she grabbed the closest thing near her working hand- a block of stone about the size of her fist. Before the man could move away, she turned on her side and brought the stone down as hard as she could on his face, striking him again, and again, and again, and again, until his skull cracked and his brain splattered across the filthy ground. 

The strength drained out of her. She released the stone and dropped back down onto the floor, like a puppet with cut strings. Her vision was spotting, and she felt cold. How very ironic that she was pitying the statues she encountered earlier, when she was going to die like a wretched worm on this hateful planet. 

_ Silly child, the Force is right here, completely at your disposal… _

If she was going to die, the least the voices could do is let her die peacefully.

_ The only way you will die today is if you continue to spit on the help I give you freely... _

Victrix sighed- apparently peace was too much to ask for. 

_ Peace is a lie...  _

“There is only passion. What help can you give a dying woman?” She croaked.

_ The chance to help yourself. You lay bleeding here, yet you have the knowledge and the power to stop it. Why is that? _

“Knowledge of healing I have, yes, but what use is it when the Light side will not come to my aid?”

_ Why would you reach for the Light when the Dark is already here, waiting for you to beckon, twisting around you like an eager lover? _

“The Dark side cannot heal.”

_ The Dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be…  _ **_unnatural_ ** _. Who shared this “knowledge” with you?  _

It was getting harder to breathe. “It is known among the Jedi. There was hesitation among them towards my learning to heal at all, given that I have never been completely steeped in the light.”

_ And do you trust the Jedi? _

She inhaled sharply. Her breaths were becoming gasps, and her vision had completely blacked over. “No.”

_ Have you not found them to be empty and ignorant, despite what their code teaches? _

“I have.” 

_ Then what are you waiting for, child? _

Victrix shuddered, and reached once again for the Force. The Dark was there, rippling against every molecule of her body, waiting for her to call. And she did, and it sang to her, and through her, and yet unlike the Light it did not heal her. Perhaps this was just another way for the voices to torment her before her death. The perilous, reckless, grief rose up in her body, loosing her control, directing her deep into the pit of despair she had been running from since that day on Ossus station. 

_ Ah-ah-ah, the Dark side does not bring you peace- it brings you power. And how do you gain power? _

“Through strength.” She breathed. If she had had tear ducts, she would be crying. 

_ And do you believe there is strength in gently tending to wounds? _

Her answer was barely a whisper. “No.” 

_ Where do you find strength then? _

“Through passion.” She tried to lick her chapped lips, but could taste only blood.

_ And the root meaning of passion, so often forgotten even by those who preach of it? _

“Suffering.”

_ Precisely, child. So what must you do now? _

A short, staccato breath. “Suffer.” And she jerked the sword out of her bowels, and  _ wrenched  _ the Force through her body, willing it to heal her, truly understanding that if she must live, she will suffer for it- as all living things must suffer. And she screamed into the eternity that is the living Force, for the pain was unlike any other she had ever felt, but she would be remade after this, and she would come out of it  _ stronger _ .


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be every Friday evening~!

Victrix awoke, unknowing how much time had passed. She was honestly surprised that she  _ had  _ awoken. Even at the end, a small part of her had suspected this to be a trick. 

_ A trick indeed. What a waste of effort that would have been, when I could have simply pointed the k’lor’slugs in your direction. _

The dim light of the chamber slowly filled her vision. “Is that what they’re called?”

_ What ignorance you have lived in. Yes, that is the current name for those wretched creatures. _

“And what is your name?”

_ Ah, I have been waiting for you to ask that. I am  _ **_XoXaan_ ** _. I was one of the  _ **_first_ ** _ of the Sith lords, one of those who abandoned the Jedi order to seek a Darker path to truth.  _

“And why did you help me, XoXaan?”

_ Oh, child, I have been waiting millennia for someone like you. Someone who has served the Light and found it empty, who has found how lacking the galaxy is. Someone who has known anger, hate…and  _ **_despair_ ** _. _

“And what do you want with me?”

_ I want the opposite of what you want, which is why we shall work together perfectly. _

Her eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t understand.”

_ Don’t play dumb, dear. You seek a teacher. I seek a student. And what a model student you will be- but first, you must find me. _

“And where shall I do that?”

_ Oh, it wouldn’t be any fun if I just gave you all the answers up front, now would it?  _

“Then you  _ don’t  _ want a student?”

Suddenly, she could see her breath upon the air. Her fingers chilled in the unexpected cold.

_ Don’t sass me, child. I have already given you a taste of the knowledge you seek. It is only fair that you prove yourself worthy of the rest of it.  _

She swallowed. “You’re right. I’ll find you.” Then she pursed her lips. “And then you’ll teach me  **everything** .”

_ We have an accord then. Try not to die too soon. _

The frigid air warmed again, and Victrix attempted to sit up. Her clothes made a squelching sound as she did so, doing their level best to stick to the coagulated blood on the floor, and her gut ached, and her arm trembled beneath her weight.  _ Not strong enough to fully heal myself then _ , she thought. Soon, though. Soon.

Her leg almost gave out underneath her when she stood, but she locked it in place and limped over to where the attackers had come from. Perhaps they might have useful supplies. After some looking around, and pausing every minute or two to catch her breath, she did eventually find a supply pack. Force be with her, but there was a stimpack in there! Just one, but one would be enough. She carefully took it out and shot the kolto into her veins. Sweet relief cascaded over her as her remaining wounds began to knit together. She put the stimpack in her belt to keep next to her in case of another ambush. Unlikely that the Sith would work together in the first place, but if it happened once, it can happen again. She carefully searched through the rest of the pack. Rations, twenty credits, a couple of traps that she had no idea how to set up, a filled water canteen, some rope, and a cloak. Well, even if there isn’t a change of clothes, a cloak would help with the sun when she had to go back out under it again. 

She packed everything back up into the small pack and swung it over her shoulders. Walking back into the main chamber, it was time to search the bodies. Nasty business, but she was already kriffing coated in blood, so there was nothing to ruin. She found another five credits on the chiss, and to her bad luck a broken stimpack on the crushed corpse, but nothing in the pockets of the twi’lek. She looked at the sword she had been stabbed with. “Waste not, want not.” She picked it up and slid it into her belt, then continued on through the ruins. She wanted to get some space between her and that cavern- no doubt scavengers would be coming to devour the bodies soon, and she wouldn’t want to be there for when they decided they might prefer their meat fresh. 

The voices had settled down into quiet whispers in the back of her head- XoXaan must have been responsible for all the earlier muttering. And wasn’t that something? Some long-dead Sith lord reaching out to her. Perhaps she would help Victrix- after all, she was certainly more accommodating than the last Sith relic she had interacted with. The shade of that lord slicing down upon her still featured occasionally in her dreams. Victrix would use caution approaching this ghost- but she would approach her. After all, greater risks can lead to greater rewards, and she had already been rewarded for acknowledging the ghost.

To think of it- healing with the Dark side spat in the face of everything she had been taught. But she had done it. Her time and effort that she had spent at the temple learning to heal had not been wasted, and if she could only speak to Master Cor’dala about it… but that was unlikely to happen. If she managed to make it back to the future, it was doubtful that any Jedi would want to speak with her. Or any ex-Jedi either, if anyone heard of what had happened with the Judge. But if she could aim for just the right time…

If, if, if, but, but, but. If wishes were fishes, she’d have an ocean full of them. She should focus on the task ahead of her, and not get caught unawares again. A couple more hours passed and the weariness ate at her, and had to stop soon or she’d fall over. Looking around, she spied what appeared to be an old Sith stone altar. Perhaps… yes. She used the Force to pull rubble from around the room to form a barricade around the area. This would do nicely. Using the pack as an awkward pillow, she curled up in the hollow of the altar and closed her eyes. 

_ She was back in the Jedi temple, and Master Cor’dala was leading her through a healing exercise. Captain Dusk was lying on the bed, staring at them with blind eyes. The torn limbs of his body were laid out along the cot, as if he were a droid on a production line and someone was about to reassemble him. “Well General? Gonna patch me up?” he asked. _

_ “Get to it now,” spoke Cor’dala, with a voice that wasn’t her own. “We don’t want to be late for the battle later. We do have a war going on, you know.” _

_ Where had she heard that voice before? “But Master, I can’t heal the Captain. He’s dead, don’t you see?” _

_ “How are you gonna speak like I’m not in the room, General? I’m right here. I thought you valued your men.” _

_ “Yes, dear, listen to the good man. If he’s speaking, he can’t truly be dead, can he?” Cor’dala smiled at her. She had no teeth. Where had her teeth gone? _

_ “I suppose I could try, Master.” _

_ “Now, now child, you know what Master Yoda says. Do, or do not. There is no try.”  _

_ “Master Yoda also says that only Sith speak in absolutes.” _

_ “Exactly my girl! You’re catching on quickly. Here,” she said, grasping Victrix’s hands and placing them on the cold stump of Dusk’s leg. Cor’dala’s hands were colder than the limb. “Give it a whirl.” _

_ Victrix tugged at the Force and it came to her like an eager puppy, but it did not heal Dusk.  _

_ Cor’dala clucked at her. “We’ve spoken about this already, child. You know what must be done.” _

_ Victrix flushed with shame. “Right, sorry Master.” _

_ “Don’t apologize, girl, just do better.” _

_ “Of course,” she replied, and she once again called upon the Dark side, and forced it to her will.  _

_ His stump started burning beneath her skin, and Dusk started screaming. Victrix tried to pull her hands away, but Cor’dala pushed them back down. _

_ “No, no! Keep healing him!”  _

_ “General, please stop! General!” _

_ “Don’t listen to him, child. You know what needs to be done.” What appeared to be black tar was dribbling from Cor’dala’s gums. _

_ Victrix tried to stop channeling the Force through him, but it refused to halt. She was no longer the one in control. _

_ “Me next Master, me next!” croaked out a broken voice beside her. _

_ Looking up, Victrix saw a burned husk standing next to her. She tried to back away, but her body was locked into place, slowly being crushed by the weight of the Force funneling through her. The husk gave a sad cry, “Master, don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Ky’Tara. I thought you wanted to save me?” _

_ Tears ran down Victrix’s face. Tears? She doesn’t have tear ducts. One plopped down onto her hands. Not tears, blood. Dusk’s screams resonated in her ears. _

_ “Master, don’t you want to save me?” The husk reached for her. “Please save me Master.” It’s fingers wrapped around her throat. “Save me.” _

Victrix woke up coughing, gasping against the pressure around her throat. She went to smack the hands away, but her hands encountered no resistance. There was nothing there. Her breathing was heavy, heart pounding in her chest. Nothing there. Just a bad dream. There’s nothing there. She was alone.

She waited for the feeling of suffocation to pass, and while it eased after a while, it never fully went away. She needed to get out of this place. She slipped the pack back over her shoulders and left her little barricade cautiously. She sensed nothing around her, and made her way again through the ruins. 

She didn’t notice it at first, but time seemed to be moving… oddly. Shadows would warp and twist in the corners of her sight, and the whispers would scream through her mind and then go silent, as if she had entered the eye of a storm- and then it would start all over again. How long had she been travelling in this tomb? She could have sworn she’d passed that fallen statue twice already, was this a third time? Surely she wasn’t  _ this _ bad at tracking? 

Oh, there- movement! Her head twisted to the corner. No, just the shadows again, Force damn them. 

Motion again- she ducked the thing that soared out at her- but once more, there was nothing there. She had dodged  _ nothing _ . She was seeing  _ nothing _ . She  _ hated _ this dirtball. Swearing to all that was unholy, she dipped under the blasted pillar that blocked the doorway for the third time and came across a new sight. 

There was a man, screaming as he was being eaten by a k’lor’slug. She wondered why she hadn’t heard his screams before entering the cavern. No matter. Or was it? No, no it wasn’t. The man was attacking the slug with a sword, trying to fight it off even as he was being chewed on. Cute. She ripped the sword from his hand, perhaps it would be useful later. He was screaming at her as the slimy creature dragged him into the shadows, it’s babies squealing with excited hunger. Did he leave a pack around? Yes, there was a half-destroyed bag near the entrance. Anything useful? Some water, some rations, nothing else. Well, she’d take what she could get. 

She continued on.

The spare sword smacked against the backs of her legs as she walked. Uncomfortable and inconvenient. She missed her lightsaber. Perhaps she would be able to reconstruct another when she arrived at the Academy, whenever that was.

Hadn’t she passed this pillar before?

It was happening again. She grit her teeth and tried to ignore the fog of Darkness clouding her perception. Eventually danger tweaked at her senses as she came to another new room, and she slid behind a crumpled effigy just in time to avoid the blaster shot that would have hit her gut. Another day, another ambush. Fracking sack of Sithspit sleemo-

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The female voice taunted. Too bad for her, she just gave away her location. 

Victrix pushed the rubble she was hiding behind directly towards that voice. A second later the crunch of bone and muscle told her she’d succeeded with her aim. Blood pooled on the floor as Victrix collected the dropped blaster and left the room, only to have to immediately evade the swing of the blade that would have separated her head from her neck. 

“I was going to take the other girl’s head, but I guess yours will do!” The man shouted as he swung again at Victrix. Why do they always have to speak? Why couldn’t they just  _ die _ ?

She grabbed him with the Force and slammed him into the wall. Picking up the sword he dropped, she disemboweled him when he moved to stand. His entrails dripped over her boots as he gasped for air. His eyes were startlingly blue, deep as a Pantoran’s skin. She shoved him off the blade and walked away, listening to his gasps grow weaker behind her.

She continued on.

By and by she passed through the room with the crushed woman again, but when she went through the hallway the corpse of the man was not there, nor was there a sign that he’d ever been there, with neither blood on the ground nor dust disturbed. The three blades and the single blaster she’d collected weighed heavier on her belt as she walked through the hall to the newly discovered stairs. Neat.

As she walked up the stairs new noises greeted her ears. Sounds of blaster fire and cursing echoed down to her, and she made her way up warily. What appeared to be daylight slowly illuminated the stairs before her, and got brighter as she ascended. Peeking over the stair-top she saw a group of soldiers dressed in old-looking gear and a pack of k’lor’slugs charging them. The soldiers were trying, but the slugs looked like they’d overwhelm them soon. If they died, she could take care of the slugs and grab their gear. Surely they’d have a few credits on their corpses. A shadow moved beside her- she could almost see Dusk’s face in the corner of her eyes.

She pulled a few ruined pillars over and crushed the slugs. 

“’Preciate the help, mi’lord.” A soldier called out to her as she walked up to them. She didn’t correct them of her status. 

“Not a problem, soldier. Are you all well?”

The talkative one flashed her a grin. “Well as can be. Thought they were about to overrun us there for a minute, but now we should be able to last the rest of the shift and then some. There’s usually a few days between rampages.”

“Glad to hear it. Could one of you point me in the direction of the Academy? The tombs on this planet are a menace.” 

That comment earned her smiles from the other men. Talky pointed behind him, “Just down that hall and make a left. Careful, looters like to lay traps for the unsuspecting.”

“I’m sure I won’t have a problem, but I appreciate the warning and the direction. Be well.”

Talky laughed. “You too, mi’lord.”

She continued on.

When she got to the point where the hallway divided, she made the left turn, then narrowly managed to hop over the trap camouflaged on the floor. A curse sounded from behind a pillar and blasters fired at her. She lunged downwards to evade most of the fire, but still got hit in the leg. She pushed the pillar that the gunman was hiding behind inwards towards him, but he rolled out of the way and continued firing at her. Kriff it all to Corellian Hell, she was getting out of here  _ now _ . Channeling as much of the Force as she could muster, she ripped him up to the ceiling, then let him go after hearing the crunch of his body making impact with stone. The carcass of the man slapped against the filthy ground, mixing fresh blood with old stains and dirt. 

She was truly growing to  _ hate  _ Korriban. 

After relieving the corpse of anything useful (a few credits, his blasters, some rations), she stimpacked herself again (it was starting to lose its effect, how long had she been down here, pumping kolto through her veins to try and get by?) and made her way to the brighter light radiating from the end of the hall. She slipped past a few groups of thugs, and slugs, and even one larger-than-average tuk’ata had claimed a side room for itself. Honestly, what a disgusting planet.

As she grew closer to the exit of the tomb, she slipped the cloak from her raided pack and put it on. The scratchy cloth felt like sandpaper against her overheated skin, but it would provide some protection from the sun’s rays. Slipping out of the godsforsaken temple at last, she stepped once more onto the red earth of Korriban. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> commenters get first dibs on the dark side cookies


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update for y'all, and don't worry, i'll still do the regular Friday update tomorrow too

Behind her lay the Valley of Kings, and before her the Sith Academy. In her way to those great steps that she had once seen so broken and ruined were groups of people- Masters, apprentices, slaves toiling away at the valley, overseers keeping a sharp eye on them, a small market at the base of the large building. She avoided them all, clinging to what small shadows there were on the edges of the canyon, then finally,  _ finally  _ started ascending the stairs of the Academy. Only- there was a man in her way. 

He sneered at the ragged appearance she portrayed, though the cloak hid most of her features and the gore that coated them. “All aspirants must first take the blood trial.”

_ Don’t kill him, don’t kill him, don’t kill him _ she chanted in her head. “And how do I take the blood trial?”

His sneer intensified as he pulled out a scanner. She stood silent as the laser passed over her, and listened to his scoff. “Another low-born entreater here, I see. You have failed the blood trial with your pathetic lineage, so- the Trial of Strength for you. Go on back down to the Valley and impress me, why don’t you?”

Her fingers slipped the clasp of the cloak open, and it slid softly to the ground. The sneer on the man’s face froze. She took a step forward, and slid out one of the swords from her belt.

He took a step back. “The people you must kill are located in the Valley  _ below _ -”

“The people I must kill are  _ already dead. _ ” She snarled the last two words and threw the sword at his feet, then pulled out another and threw that one as well, the startling clang of blades attracting the attentions of previously uninterested persons. Their gazes burned her skin deeper than their crimson sun. 

She made move to slip out the third sword, but the man held up a hand, “Enough! You have indeed passed the trial! Continue on into the Academy and speak with the Lord Numas. He will direct you to your rooms.” The man sniffed. “And to a shower.”

Victrix heard a few snickers. She flexed her hand around the blade. She could kill everyone here, right now, marry their red blood to the red dirt and let the bodies rot under the heat, and  _ then _ they could smell for themselves their own disgusting deaths, and- 

Stop it. No. Stop. She breathed in, and out, and started climbing the steps once more. 

\---

_ “I didn’t think you’d make it.” _

Ancalaga’s words echoed in her head as she scrubbed the filth from her skin. No faith in her at all. Did she not understand what it  _ took  _ to transverse the Umbra as she had? Did she not understand how many people Victrix is already responsible for murdering? Did she truly think that Korriban of all places would be her end?

Of course she did. She had no reason to have faith in her, and it’s not as if Victrix had opened up about her entire life. Why should Ancalaga be able to look at her and immediately know her?

Furion had.

Ancalaga was not Furion. Victrix paused in her scrubbing. Yet.

She sighed, lathering her hair for the third wash. Perhaps she would take Ancalaga’s example, and cut most of it off. But she had kept it grown out as a reminder… of someone. Who? Someone she didn’t remember. Someone she knew before the Umbra had taken part of herself away, had stolen from her precious memories of  _ before _ . Before when? Oh, the temple. Wouldn’t the council love to get their hands on something like that. Train all of the Force sensitives they could find, and wipe away their  _ befores _ , make them into perfect little Order members, following their  _ duties  _ and not getting  _ attached _ . There was a sour taste in Victrix’s mouth, so she brushed it out and imagined spitting the Jedi thoughts out with her toothpaste. 

Her apartment was small, but it was entirely her own. Her own kitchenette, living room, and bathroom. No sharing with the rest of the Temple. No cramped spaces aboard ships. This was something she could get used to. Toweling dry her hair, she viewed the datapad the droid had given her. The class schedule was more combat focused than she was used to, but no doubt that would be a boon for her. She would remain focused on achieving the power she had gone to Furion to find. And in the meantime, she would take a few odd jobs around the Academy, and locate XoXaan. Evaluate, prioritize, execute. Let this be a lesson for her, in patience and in resolve.

\---

The days passed by quickly. She found that she was not the first in most of her classes, but she was far from the last. Surprising herself (and others), she even did well in the combat lessons- if you counted well as in the top half of the class (she didn’t). It wasn’t good enough, so she continued to practice on her own time, in between scouring the library for hints of XoXaan, and doing occasional work in their “hospital”, which is how she was introduced to Inquisitor Graven. 

She had been in the middle of making a paste to soothe joint pain when a shadow stole over her mortar and pestle. She looked up, and immediately sighed to herself inside. “May I be of service, my Lord?” She was so sick of kowtowing to “her betters”. Most of these days she had the urge to stab all of them in the throat every time they spoke to her. Watching them gurgle and choke on their own blood would surely be an improvement to listen to their whiny, obnoxious-

“You seem to know your way around humanoid anatomy fairly well, Initiate.” His voice wasn’t entirely grating, at least. His teeth were straight, lips coated with balm.

He expected an answer, no doubt. “I would like to think so, my Lord, though I’m sure I don’t have as much knowledge as yourself.”

“No, though I wouldn’t expect you to. Tell me,” he took a seat across from her, “How you came about your knowledge.”

She recognized an order when she heard one. “I was a Jedi, my Lord. I worked in the Healer’s Hall.”

He smiled. “Ah, another former Jedi come to join the right side. I never get tired of hearing that.”

“I aim to please, my Lord.”

“Do you?” His tone was needling, seeking weakness. She would not give him any.

“I do. My Lord.” She made the pause just long enough to ride that fine line between deliberate insubordination and simply the end of her sentence. 

“Well. Well then.” He tapped his pale fingers on the table as she scooped out the ointment into a small jar. “Come with me.” He demanded just as she finished, standing and exiting the room. She followed quickly, though the journey was short. She knew what area she was now in, and her palms began to sweat. The interrogation chambers did not hold her idea of an enjoyable time, especially if she was going to be the one interrogated. 

How many- one other, not including Graven, though she was busy standing before a strapped down man. She could do this, fight her way out. If she was fast enough nobody would know what she had done for at least ten minutes. She could make it to the docking bay in ten minutes. Hijack a ship? Yes, sounds like a plan. How would she- there was another table there, she could rip it out of it’s hinges. Surely that would do some damage. It would also make noise though, probably too much. Was there a quieter way-

Graven’s hand landed on her shoulder. She tried not to flinch, though she had little doubt he could feel exactly how tense she was. He smiled at her. He had laugh lines in the corner of his eyes, he must be used to smiling. “The man strapped down is also a former member of your Order, though he is a former member simply because he will be dead by the time this evening is over.”

She had no idea what was happening. “My Lord?”

He guided her with a firm grip over to the man. “I pride myself on being a people grower. I see dulled talent, and enjoy helping hone it into a beautiful edge. The Jedi did not give you the tools you required to file your blade- we Sith will. So,” he gestured with his spare hand, “Let us begin.”

Did he want her to- surely not, she wasn’t an Inquisitor! “My Lord, I’m unfamiliar with the necessary tactics to get information out of a subject. If there is knowledge you seek from this Jedi, I will not pretend that getting it from him is quite possibly beyond my level of skill.”

The crow’s feet highlight the gleam of his sickly yellow eyes. “Dearest me child, I certainly don’t expect you to go toe-to-toe with a Jedi Master’s mind training. No, I’m merely here to help you learn the value of pain, and how to achieve it.” He gently caressed the Jedi’s hand, and she felt a twist in the Force, and suddenly the man was screaming, strapped down below her, helpless to do anything about it. She tasted blood- she must have bit down on her tongue. After a short while the screaming stopped, and Graven’s smile widened. He had never stopped looking at her face the entire time he was torturing the man. “Your turn now.”

She swallowed the blood and looked at the instruments next to them. The other Inquisitor seemed content to watch behind her mask. “Is- is there a place you would recommend starting, my Lord?”

He chuckled. “Surprise me. Show me some initiative, initiate.”

She looked at the instruments again, and thought of blood, and then thought that puking over the Jedi was not the sort of initiative Graven wanted to see. She swallowed again, trying to quell her rebellious stomach, and took a step towards the man, inspecting him rather than the tools. She could go for the brain first, perhaps send him into a stroke, give him a merciful death rather than having to deal with this continued torment. His glassy blue eyes kept trying to focus on her- the gag in his mouth prevented him from pleading for mercy. But she could feel the hum in the Force around her, despite the dampeners on his body. He was ready for death, ready to embrace the Force. 

Graven shifted behind her. She wasn’t sure if he was growing impatient, but she had no desire to face the Inquisitor’s wrath herself, and that thought spurred her actions. If she displeased him, it could be her on this table next, so no easy death for the Jedi. Well, the only path then was forward. She moved towards the Jedi’s feet, and removed his boots and damp socks. Graven raised his eyebrows, but made no comment. She could hear Master Cor’dala’s voice in her head as she touched the man, gently feeling his body through the force. 

_ “Now,” she said to her, “There are twenty-six bones, thirty-three joints, and over one hundred tendons, muscles and ligaments in each foot. In addition to this, each one has over seven thousand nerve endings. Because of this, when massaging the feet, much like the hands, you must be very careful, because they are extremely sensitive, and easily prone to injury.” She placed her hands on Master Windu’s right foot. _

_ “One quarter of all the bones in the human body are in your feet. When these bones are out of alignment, so is the rest of the body.” She continued as she started stretching his foot side-to-side, then up and down. “It is imperative that you always check the range of motion first, then begin your work. Range of motion will tell you if there is an issue with alignment, or with locked muscles, or even with spinal displacement. In an ideal world, all of these issues would be fixed before sending Jedi back on a battlefield.” _

_ Master Windu grunted an agreement, his face stuffed in the pillow on the cot.  _

_ “However, we do not live in an ideal world, or these deep tissue therapies would be a lot more common.” Cor’dala scowled at Windu’s feet, moving her thumb’s distal knuckle down the center of the one in her hands. “Remember to ‘open’ up the feet first, it helps double check for locked muscles you might have missed, and working the center of the foot first will help relax most of the other interlocking muscles in the feet and ankles. Go ahead and follow my lead now.” _

_ Victrix took her place beside Cor’dala and began to copy her, starting from the beginning.  _

_ “Very good, you catch on as quickly as always. Now, after we open up the foot, much like after we warmed up the back, we can begin subtly applying the Force. Just make sure to avoid those spots we discussed.” Cor’dala winked at her, and she flushed.  _

_ That datapad had been very… informative. Apparently there are pressure points located all over the typical humanoid body (forty-two exactly, three on each foot) that when applying both the right amount of pressure and Force power could instigate intense pleasure. The datapad had also pointed out that massaging those particular areas heavily encouraged Force generation and recuperation, even more so than the regular deep tissue massage with the Force that they were doing today, but Jedi eschewed passion, so she was unable to practice it. Which was alright with her, because if Cor’dala ever caught her doing something like that she would probably die from embarrassment. It was bad enough when Master Zhar caught her kissing that cute bounty hunter one time on that backwater planet, what was its name again…? _

_ Cor’dala’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Something I forgot to mention is that with warriors and those who’ve been on the battlefield more recently, it’s typically better to start with the feet. Many veterans get twitchy with strangers' hands around their spine and their neck, and starting with the feet is a good way to get them to relax into it first.” Victrix nodded at that, storing the information away.  _

_ “Now,” Cor’dala continued, “you can add the Force. Be certain to match your wavelength to theirs, otherwise…” Cor’dala trailed off, waiting for Victrix to finish the sentence. _

_ “Otherwise the massage will only contribute to the disturbances and misalignment in the person’s body, not decrease it or bring it into balance.” _

_ “And what happens if you double or triple the wavelength on those points we discussed?” _

_ “Intense pain, instead of, you know.” _

_ Both Masters Windu and Cor’dala chuckled at that. Victrix was certain that her face was as red as Cor’dala’s hair.  _

_ Cor’dala said, “Yes, pain instead of “you know”. It used to be used as a Sith torture tactic, but as the last of the Sith have been gone for thousands of years, it has thankfully fallen out of practice. So, match your wavelength and follow my lead.” _

_ Victrix matched her wavelength to Master Windu’s (his presence in the Force was entirely palpable and so very… balanced. She’s never seen anything quite like it.) and the lesson continued. _

She was startled by Graven’s hand on her shoulder, and her Force wavelength stumbled out of balance enough to disconnect from the Jedi’s.

His eyes were so very bright. “That, my dear girl, was truly a show of initiative. How very clever and inspired!”

Victrix’s heart was beating very fast in her chest, so fast she could feel it in her throat, and her ears rang from the almost-constant screaming.

“I’ll see you here again in three days, we must let you get in plenty of practice with this technique of yours. What a fearsome Lord you will be one day.” His smile had widened into a grin. One of his back teeth was golden. 

“Yes, my Lord.” Victrix bowed to him and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're a weeb like me and a fan of Naruto, go check out two fics by Oroburos69: 'Freedom in the Eyes of Another' and 'Bad Decisions and the People Who Make Them', the later of which I completely confess inspired the torture scene here and another scene in the next chapter. Badass Sakura fics need more love.


	5. Chapter 5

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. She was a regular contributor in the interrogation chambers, and a steady visitor to the library, and now (after frequently sabotaging classmates) she ranked within the top twelve at the Academy. Still, despite time having passed, she had found no clues as to where XoXaan’s tomb might be located, and it was starting to frustrate her, just as her continued failure with using the Umbra was frustrating her. She was doing well, but she wasn’t doing enough, and now the rumors of another selection were making the rounds, and the last thing she needed was  _ more  _ pressure. To top it all off, it appears that Ancalaga’s master must have taken her off planet and kept her there, because Victrix had seen neither hide nor hair of her since her first day at the Academy. 

Unfortunately, she had seen plenty of Tokrev. The Sith male had kept the second place ranking in the Academy and stayed there. If Victrix hadn’t been a continuous witness of the top three’s strength, she would think that they were cheating. Unfortunately for her, it appears that all three were just that talented. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she would take the drive from that bitterness and discard the rest as a worthless emotion. Jealousy would only lead to blindness, and that wasn’t useful to her. She had no time for useless things.

As she left the library after another disappointing round of research, she caught a flash of platinum in the corner of her vision. Was that- yes, Ancalaga! Think of the Devaronian and she shall appear! She was walking out of the building, a bag in her hands. Victrix followed her out, and caught up with her at the marketplace, where she appeared to be haggling the parts in her bag with the vendor. Victrix stayed off to the side, making no move to interrupt, waiting for the deal to finish. And then it was done, and she was walking up to Ancalaga, sweeping a teasing bow before her. “Perhaps I could assist you with your Master’s errands, Apprentice Ancalaga?”

The blonde smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Just my Master’s needs, initiate? No help with mine?” There was tension in the air, of a sort that Victrix was unfamiliar with.

The Miraluka tried to keep the mischievous grin off her face. “My apologies, you are indeed correct in that I should also see to your needs. Was there something in particular I could serve you in?”

There was some light in Ancalaga’s eyes that was foreign to Victrix. “Yes. You could get on your knees and give me a foot massage.”

Victrix paused, took a breath.  _ Focus _ , she told herself. There’s no way Ancalaga knew about the interrogations, especially that first one. The Inquisitors were  _ very  _ touchy about information sharing- she herself had assisted in the torture of those who had proven to have loose lips. She was simply exerting her power as a Sith apprentice over an Initiate- something quite common and honestly expected about the Academy. She was playing the game. Very well, Victrix would play right back. “If you would like a foot massage, I would be happy to oblige, though my quarters would be much more comfortable for such a thing.”

The blonde walked past her, brushing against Victrix as she did so. “Your quarters it is then.” Victrix’s skin tingled as she followed her.

As they entered her apartment they both seemed to relax, especially Ancalaga, who sighed deeply and threw herself on the couch. “Tea?” Victrix asked.

“Please.”

Victrix made them tea and brought a cup over to Ancalaga, seating herself as she did so. The other woman took a sip and then promptly kicked her booted feet over Victrix’s lap, sending her a challenging smile as she did so. That strange tension vibrated through the air. 

Victrix did not back down from a challenge. As she began unlacing, unzipping, and in general unlocking Ancalaga’s very unnecessarily complicated boots, she asked her, “How has everything been going?”

The woman pursed her lips unhappily. “It has not been… what I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

As she explained her disappointment in general with her Master and position, and then interrogated Victrix about her hobbies (and how was Victrix supposed to admit that torturing people had become a hobby? And that beforehand her only hobbies were reading, drinking tea, teaching her Padawan, and in general trying to better the lives of the manufactured slaves the Republic had given her to use in their murderous war?) Victrix managed to get those maddening boots off and start with the massage, though making sure not to include the Force usage as was her wont these days (when had she last touched someone without the intent to cause harm?). Then Ancalaga got started on Victrix’s plans, and even offered to murder someone for Victrix (those words “I might like having you owe me a favour” echoed strangely in the Miraluka’s ears- and she heavily doubted Ancalaga would be up for suicide just to possibly save Victrix’s future). 

As Victrix started kneading the heel of the foot (pressure point good for relieving lower back pain, since the other woman had been sitting at a desk so often) Ancalaga asked, “Are you sure you belong here at the Academy?”

“Well, I certainly don’t belong at the Temple.” She’d never be able to face Cor’dala again after what she’s done, twisting something so benevolent into something entirely cruel. 

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It isn’t, is it?” What was she supposed to say? That both the Sith and the Jedi were wrong? That neither had the correct ideas, and each caused unnecessary pain and suffering of the soul? That Victrix belonged no where, and in no time? Nobody wanted to hear her ramblings on the subject, especially as she was now, her thoughts muddied and disjointed with useless emotion, not allowing her to see clearly on the topic.

“Well then, do you intend to stay here?”

Victrix considered the question. “Perhaps, there is another selection coming up soon, and I’m interested in what may come of it. I suppose it is possible that I may find a Master that suits my purpose.” So long as it wasn’t Graven.

That got Ancalaga’s attention. “Another selection so soon? I haven’t heard of this.”

The brunette nodded. “It’s been the talk of the Academy the past week. We don’t know when exactly it will happen, but ‘soon’ is a given.”

“Well, we’ll have to make a plan to get you in there, won’t we?” And with that, she swung her feet off of Victrix’s lap and gathered her things. As they walked over to the door, Ancalaga said, “Thanks for that, I’ll have to repay the service next time. Try not to die.” And she left, leaving a strange, unsatisfied heat burning through Victrix. 

\---

Victrix awoke from her dream with a gasp. Holy kriffing Corinthian hell, that was… insane. Her body  _ burned _ , and she needed… oh, sod it all, she needed to get off. When was the last time she had...? No matter. Sliding her fingers over herself, it was almost too easy to climax, thoughts of intense smoky eyes haunting her. She made her way over to the fresher, feeling the slightest pangs of guilt for using Ancalaga that way, but that dream had been… no words. She shuddered as the cold water struck her skin and wiped the lingering haze of sleep from her mind. She’d keep these thoughts tucked away, and hopefully it wouldn’t happen again. Force only knows what Ancalaga would think of her if she caught them floating about in her head. 

She had classes to attend anyways, and those should keep her busy enough. She shouldn’t let anything distract her now, not with the selection coming up. She needed to keep a cool head and a steady focus. 

As her day passed by almost uneventfully (once again Tokrev had beaten her in a spar, and if it happened one more time she was going to SCREAM, how much did she have to practice to sodding win for once in her godsdamned life), thoughts of the dream were irreverently shoved to the deepest parts of her mind when they popped up. She knew that with practice and patience that eventually they’d stay in that box. Visiting the clinic to assist the droids there after classes helped her achieve a meditative state, the familiar scents of medicinal herbs and bacta relaxing tense muscles and clearing her head of the fury that had sunk into the back of her skull. Thankfully it wasn’t a day where she had to visit the interrogation chambers- she always hated herself after leaving there.

The next couple days came and went, and then suddenly there was confirmed talk of a selection date. Nine Masters would be choosing apprentices- well, since the top rankings of the school are hidden except for the top three, she’d have to be logical and disciplined about her path ahead. Knowing she was in the top twelve after glimpsing that datapad helped, but she needed to be certain of her status. However, this was a crucial moment- if she kriffed up here there was little doubt that it would be months or years she’d have to wait for the next selection. Victrix wasn’t willing to spend anymore time here, but she also couldn’t directly sabotage the other students, perhaps- a face flickered through her mind, orange eyes filled with a familiar frustration of always being  _ lesser _ . Yes, he would do nicely. 

She came early to her first class the next day, and when she spied him stroll past her she tugged on his shirt with the Force. His head snapped to her, eyes furious. She jerked her head in the direction of a niche in the hallway, one hidden by an obnoxious pillar with a holo face of some idiot Sith idol. He sneered at her, but he did accompany her over to the hidden area.

Before he could open his mouth to demand answers, she set the tone of this meeting. “Jahcob, you are just outside of the top twelve.” Her voice was firm, authoritative, and projected only confidence. 

He scowled at her, the burn scar across his face warping his features. “What’s it to you?”

“I,” she stated, raising an eyebrow at him, “am just within the top twelve. But that’s not good enough for either of us- I’m sure that you too wish to be free of this wretched Academy, chosen by a Master of strength where you can actually put your skills to use?”

His arms crossed over his chest. “You want me to do your dirty work.”

“What I  _ want  _ is for you to... take care... of a few of people while I cause a distraction, leaving spots open for the both of us. I have their names, their schedules, and I’ve even gone to the trouble of formulating a plan of attack for you.” She tossed a data chip at him. 

His hand snapped it up like a fish biting a fly. “If you’ve gone through all this  _ trouble _ , why don’t you  _ take care _ of them yourself?” His tone rang bitter and mocking- he must still be upset about losing that spar the other day. He’ll get over it.

She held up three fingers. “Firstly, the actions necessary will raise a fuss if there’s not a distraction happening elsewhere. I don’t want to raise the attention of the Academy guards. Secondly, while you’re better suited to ambush, you are  _ much  _ less suited to subtle disturbances.” She tugged on his shirt again with the Force to demonstrate her point. “Thirdly, if you’re going to benefit from my actions, you should put in some effort too.”

His scowl had disappeared as she spoke, overtaken by a thoughtful expression that belied his fierce appearance. “You make a good point, partner.” He held out his hand to her. She shook it. The deal was done.

\---

What  _ should  _ have been a straightforward process after their trials was apparently too easy for the Force to let her have. Some  _ idiot  _ had wrecked a ship on the docking bays outside, and now nine masters had dropped to six. This was  _ unbelievable _ ! Why couldn’t anything in her life simply follow the plan? Gang aft agley her ass, this was the line of  _ all  _ aft agley, with the grief and misery constantly proving her foresight wrong. 

Eighth place was no longer going to work, she’d have to make it to sixth. That means two people needed to go down for the count, and Jahcob might not be so willing to help this time, after nearly losing an eye to a well-placed dagger strike. Well, she’d convince him somehow, she only had two days- perhaps she could leave the combat out of it, or involve poison (which she’d have to sneak out of the Inquisitorial lockbox, which would  _ not  _ be an easy task), or-

Oh, that might work. Yes, that might work very well. Numbers four and numbers six hated each other. If she could simply get them to meet each other in the wrong place at the wrong time, there would be a distinct inevitability of violence. She cracked her knuckles and set off to find Jahcob. 

\---

If she had been in possession of eyes, they would be twitching with fury. She had to go out of her sodding way to set herself up for sixth place, make hasty plans that could have spelled her doom (or at least her failure and years of setback), and it was all for  _ nothing _ , because surprise, surprise, they managed to find another few Masters to add to the selection. This was ridiculous, she could have been focusing on her trials instead of worrying about her placement, she was  _ incensed _ -

_ What in the name of Tattoine’s two suns was Ancalaga doing here? _

Victrix managed to make the step just in time, thankfully avoiding falling flat on her face out of pure astonishment. Was she here on behalf of her Master? Did she convince him to take on another apprentice? The lid of the security box in the back of her head shuddered. She slammed it back down. Those thoughts could keep to themselves. A spark of hope had flared in her chest just the same. It would be incredible to work with someone she could actually respect, someone who she might even consider a friend.

The speaker had started announcing the Lords- several teachers (she better not get stuck at this blasted Academy), what looked to be a Twi’lek warrior (Force don’t let her pick Victrix, she was  _ not  _ going to spend every waking moment of her life getting up at dawn with a weapon in hand), an inquisitor (not Graven, thankfully, but still, not who she wanted to serve), a pair of twins, both bladed weapons and lightsabers on their belts (potentially interesting, but not who she  _ wanted _ ), a proud-looking Sith man (Sith-Sith, red skin and mandibles and that arrogance carried like a mantle on his shoulders, no thank you, she did not want to spend the next few years being looked down on), and Ancalaga, who was announced as  _ Darth Furion  _ and Force help her it felt like she was punched in the gut and she couldn’t start gasping for breath here she had to get herself under control but she couldn’t tear her attention away from that intense gaze that was focused on  _ Victrix _ , and  _ how did this happen _ , and she could serve under her again, but would that even be wise, what was Victrix going to  _ do _ -

_ Focus _ . She was missing the selection. She couldn’t be caught off guard here, not surrounded by powerful lords watching their every move. Breathe in, breathe out. Center herself. Let go of that emotion which is not useful, and only keep that which would be beneficial to her. There, there. She’s found her eye in the center of the storm once more.

The Sith lord has stepped up, inspecting Tokrev. She’s grateful, no doubt Tokrev would do well under another Sith such as himself, and it would take away Victrix’s main competition for a place at Ancalaga’s side. Or, she would be grateful, except the man is now walking away from Tokrev and has come to face her. No, absolutely not. He glances at Ancalaga (does he have an issue with her?), then regards Victrix for a split second, and his voice barks out a sharp command. “You, come.” He starts walking towards the door. 

Victrix’s feet move to follow automatically, which she is grateful for, because her mind has frozen with shock. She has absolutely no idea what’s going on, and Tokrev is and has always been number two at the Academy, why wouldn’t the Sith Lord choose him-

“But Father-” Tokrev’s voice calls out from behind her, and Victrix can’t help but to look back. Ancalaga has her hand on Tokrev’s shoulder, but the blonde woman meets her glance with a face of stone. Victrix’s heart is in her stomach, but her feet carry her throughout the door and after the Sith Lord. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah! bet y'all thought she'd get to be Ancalaga's apprentice. i thought so too, and then my DM slapped the hope out of my hands. :( if you like what i've written, please leave kudos or comment below. i'd love to hear your thoughts. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to give an extra update this week. i have 80k words of this shit typed out, so why not?

This may not be the worst week of Victrix’s life (first place for that easily goes to that day on Felucia and the terrible aftermath that tore her soul to scattered shreds, and second place goes to the week where she had been knighted and not two days later her Master is murdered and then the Clone Wars start, and third place handily goes to Ossus station where green flames and the screams of thousands of innocents still echo in her nightmares) but it’s definitely top ten. Having to finish her trials, sort out her place in the Academy rankings via a great deal of stress and sabotage, find out it was for  _ nothing _ , miss out on the chance to have Ancalaga as a Master again (which could be a good thing and could be a terrible thing but the fact of the matter is now she won’t have constant eyes on her and Force damn it that would have been a blessing), gets stuck with a snippy Sith lord for a Master (who doesn’t actually seem completely terrible), and now she has to magically create a lightsaber. It’s not like she can simply pull one out of her ass (what a neat trick that would be). She could certainly steal one, then modify it, but the kyber crystal is  _ supposed  _ to call to her and how the hell is she going to find one of those on Korriban, of all kriffing places? 

She manages to spend her hard-earned credits on the necessary parts for a hilt and put it together. All those hours spent examining  _ that  _ lightsaber and using materials and cautiously taking apart and rebuilding many different hilts under the direction of Huyang had paid off. She pauses in her actions for a minute, and wonders if the Jedi use the Professor droid in this day and age, or if someone else teaches them? Well, it’s not like she can go up to a Jedi and ask. Even if she could locate one for the simple question, no doubt they’d think her out of her mind and attack her as Sith immediately. How irritating, to have that niggle of curiosity but unable to do anything about it-  _ except  _ she is capable of getting answers! Victrix is sometimes amazed at her own idiocy- she simply has to wait for the next time she can meet with Ancalaga and ask  _ her _ . If there is a next time. There won’t be if she can’t make this damned lightsaber. 

She longs for the calm silver crystal of her old one. Most Padawans were taken to Ilum to find crystals for their sabers, but her Master (Zhar Tagditi is a man whose loss she will grieve until the end of her days) had taken her to Alpheridies- the Miralukan adopted homeworld. Victrix still doesn’t know to this day why he did such a thing for her, but the chance to see a planet she had only ever heard of, to meet others of her own kind who saw the world as she did, and the kyber crystal she had found there had forever sealed her loyalty to him. She was always an unruly youngling, too attached to those she had left behind, not completely raised at the temple like most Jedi, but after that trip she had found the start of a small peace within herself, which had been brutally destroyed by his murder. She had felt their bond snap from worlds away, and the pain had been horrific. 

She needs to center herself. She has no chance of finding another crystal to fit her if she can’t even manage that. The crisp darkness of a nearby cave beckoned to her- she would meditate there, out from underneath this ugly sun. The refreshing chill of the air provided a chance to clear her wits, and she folded her legs underneath her and reached out to this desolate planet with the Force. Surprisingly, something called to her almost immediately- that something, in fact appeared to be calling her from deeper inside the very cave she was in. 

Korriban was a thorny world- it was quite possible that what was calling to her from inside the cave would be a trap. She’d come across several areas like that before in her search for XoXaan’s tomb. However, the Force did work in mysterious ways… She’d have to chance it. She had less than twenty four hours to build a lightsaber and she needed to take any shot she could get. She got up from her position and moved inwards. As she descended, following the call from deep inside when she came to junctions, the previously refreshing chill had begun to drop in temperature, until it was actually getting to be uncomfortable. She hadn’t known Korriban could be this cold (except for when interfered with by vaguely malevolent Sith ghosts). Eventually the rock walls of the cave started to turn into stone halls, and the floor became carved with intricate designs, and as she saw the changes take place in this temple (for what else could it be?) there came a light up ahead. 

Victrix slowed her pace and entered the chamber cautiously, on the lookout for traps. After inspecting the room, she couldn’t find anything of danger to her- all that lay here was a lit brazier (whose fire seemed to be coming from within the earth, and what a relief that it wasn’t green) and a stone altar with Sith lettering. As she puzzled over the language, the symbols pulled together before her sight, as if all of them had been collectively made of ink, and then reformed-  _ Through this door lies the key.  _

Door? What door? Victrix inspected the room again, frustrated. Riddles upon riddles- and there was no door here. She frowned, a bit pissed off. This had better not have been a waste of her time. She reached out with the Force, trying to locate that call again- but she felt  _ nothing _ . 

For the first time since entering the cave, a trickle of fear seeped down her spine- a trickle that surged as the light in the brazier dimmed. She was not in the mood to deal with this kind of bantha shittery. A dangerous idea came to mind- risky, but if she pulled it off it might bring its own rewards. The light dimmed more and the decision was made for her, sod it all.

She cut her upper forearm carefully across her Sith warblade and held it over the small basin in the middle of the altar. The change was immediate and devastating. Her blood started pouring out of her, as if it was being directly funneled into the hollow. Sithspit, this was not going according to plan, damn it all to hell! She tried to tug at the Darkness no doubt located within the altar in an attempt to recover the strength that was being leached from her, but all it did was fill her with a familiar and dreadful ice. It couldn’t be… could it?

_ You stupid child! _ XoXaan’s voice echoed through her mind.

Victrix let out a bitter laugh and ignored her.

_ Why are you still there? Retreat while you can, this is not a path you wish to take! _

“Nonsense,” Victrix replied as the edges of her vision slowly blacked out. “This is the correct path forward.” She leaned into the altar, giving it easier access to her blood.

_ You know nothing of what awaits you! Listen to your betters and leave that mired darkness alone, lest it steal you away in it’s tides and drown you. _

Frost was nipping it’s way up her sleeves and the hem of her robe. Her sight was fading, but the recognizable and intimate gloom of the Umbra was swelling. 

_ Enough, you foolish girl! Leave before you make a decision you will regret for eternity! _

Those words reverberated in Victrix’s ears as she fell down, down, down, deep into that Cimmerian shade. 

\---

She awoke to the dim white light of the brazier, merely a flicker in the room. Her skull was pounding, a vicious migraine squeezing the sense out of her wits. Her breath formed fog in the air, and ice coated her clothing. It felt like she had gone three rounds with a rancor and lost. 

_ It’s not too late to turn back, the path ahead of you still splits… _

XoXaan’s words sounded as if she spoke from some distant place, rather than right next to her ear as Victrix had grown used to.

She moved to sit, but when she went to drag herself up she realized that within her grasp was a kyber crystal, one unlike any she had seen before. Deep red (like blood, she thought), shots of black creeped through it like veins in a body. She knew that shade of black. 

_ Make your way out of the temple now, girl.  _

She slipped the crystal into her lightsaber and ignited the blade. The red glow smoldered, illuminating the entire room. The brazier extinguished itself, but that was no matter. An echoing light seemed to swell behind the altar, reacting to her lit blade. She stood, and the outline of a door radiated scarlet. She limped over to the door, forcing stiff muscles to operate, and pushed against it. It didn’t budge. Perhaps she had to cut her way through with the lightsaber?

_ Enough. Truly, this is enough. If you turn back now, I will guide you to my tomb myself, and we can begin our lessons.  _

Victrix considered XoXaan’s offer. It was certainly alluring, but the opportunity to work the Umbra was here, right before her. All she had to do was push open this door.  _ Oh _ , she thought to herself. _ I’m pushing it the wrong way.  _

And she twisted the Force within her and  _ shoved  _ that door into the waiting crimson light, and as she walked into the hallway of light she could hear the sibilant hiss of a disappointed sigh resound behind her. 

\---

She was laying in her bed. How had she gotten here? She can’t remember, but the stagnant numbness seeping through her body ensured she didn’t care. She moved to sit, and realized that not only was she laying in clothing filthy with that red Korriban grime, but that her lightsaber was grasped in her hand.  _ Her lightsaber _ . She ignited the blade, and the flaming red saber illuminated the room. The last time she had held a lightsaber of this colour did not turn out so well, but this one- this one was  _ hers _ . She could almost feel the Force pulse within it to the beat of her heart. 

She extinguished the blade and checked the time. It was early morning the next day- she didn’t lose much of her life, but it was still disconcerting- or it would have been, if she wasn’t so deadened. The world seemed a bleak grey in the early dawn. Usually Korriban’s vermillion sun turns everything it touches into an ungodly shade of orange. 

She showered, and changed her clothes. She had set the water to its highest temperature, but it still hadn’t managed to burn out the apathy from her bones. What was wrong with her? She didn’t feel ill, just… empty.

Even at her lowest she had still felt emotion, even if that emotion was self-hatred. 

It didn’t matter- nothing really did, right now. She had a meeting to get to, she could focus on it later.

\---

When Venethal had told her that he had chosen her because she had the most potential, she had wanted to laugh in his face. What potential? Now, when she’s able to think upon it critically, she believes that he simply said it in an attempt to appeal to her ego, and allow her to continue to attend these meetings unbothered. Perhaps in another time that might have irritated her, but these weeks had passed and that oozing detachment had remained, making a neat little house for itself in her body. 

Life might not have been easy here, but it had been surprisingly simple. Wake up, perform her katas (sometimes joining the students at the Academy for their obstacle courses, and didn’t that give them a nasty shock, but it helped her maintain her adequate physical condition), attend whatever tasks Venethal required her presence for- typically political meetings (bo-ring, but the detachment she felt allowed her to keep a cool head even when things got tense or violent), war updates (her Master had appreciated the first time she made suggestions on strategy in the datapad she notated the meetings in, and so she continued to do so when it was appropriate, and he began to pass her volumes on strategy), the occasional lesson on Sith history (and it was indeed truth that he knew much of Sith history- he spoke of Lords she had never heard of, taught her lessons about their failings, and preached upon Sith values- the last she could do without, but the first two were positively  _ fascinating _ ), and then her time was her own. 

The most interesting part of her life now, when she was able to feel interest, was Ashan. The Sith woman was intelligent, brutally straightforward, and vastly knowledgeable in the ways of the Force. Victrix admired her greatly, and honestly wondered why a woman such as herself hadn’t already been made a Lord. She was the right age (too old for a typical apprentice as well), and she had the power, so why not the position? But Victrix wasn’t yet close enough to her to be able to ask, so she didn’t. 

Varric was… Varric. She had met many flirts in her life as she travelled from planet to planet, but this one was naturally charming, despite her initial hesitance and his initial mockery. She sometimes felt herself surprised into laughter when he swung by to bother her studies, and she’d see a brief flash of red in his hair as he grinned back at her, eyes bright. He was... easy company. 

She wasn’t happy, per se (she wasn’t able to feel that depth of emotion anymore), but she was content, and she wasn’t having to struggle to find knowledge. In fact, so much of it was being crammed into her head on a daily basis she sometimes thought her brain might leak out of her ears. If it ever did, she’d have to soak it up with a sponge and then squeeze it back in, because she would  _ not  _ waste this opportunity. 

She didn’t hear from Ancalaga. That first night after her selection she had paced her new rooms, wall to wall to wall, hoping for a visit from the blonde woman, getting little sleep. No visit came, or has come since. She’s considered reaching out, sending her an email asking her how she’s been, but every time she tries to write one it just seems trite. Ancalaga is her last tie to her previous world, and Victrix doesn’t want to let it slip through her hands, but she’s never been great with expressing emotions other than anger or compassion, which when expressed usually came out angry-sounding so in reality just anger. 

Part of her is grateful that she no longer feels such strong emotion, but another part of her feels… loss- well, what loss she is able to feel. 

Her days continue into weeks, and weeks again into months. She slowly but surely starts to earn her Master’s trust (at least with basic tasks), and forms a working knowledge of the Sith hierarchy and how to move through it to get what she wants.

What she hasn’t found is the location of XoXaan’s tomb- in fact, she hasn’t heard anything from the Force ghost since she discovered that cave. She’s experimented with her lightsaber and it’s crystal since, of course, but no matter how she pulls on it or cajoles it or meditates with it she still cannot use it to access the Umbra. She’s even tried to go back to that temple, but when she goes to look for the cavern she cannot find it, and eventually gives it up as an exercise in (barely there, barely burning) frustration and instead searches her Master’s small library for clues, and eventually convinces Ashan to start letting her copy works from her own collection now and then. While useful and extremely informative, none of it is quite what she’s searching for. 

And thus, time passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you like, please leave kudos or comments~! :D


	7. Chapter 7

“You know, it’s punishable by death to assault a member of the Dark Council.” 

Ancalaga’s voice echoed in Victrix’s ears. The last time she had heard that voice was the Dark Council meeting the previous day, but before that, it had been when Ancalaga had left her alone in her Initiate rooms, feeling strangely unsatisfied and wanting to keen with a loss she didn’t understand.

As she sat there on the ground, staring up at Ancalaga’s ashen eyes, she realized that colour had suffused back into the world, as if she had simply been walking through a bleak existence of nothingness and now suddenly she could see, she could feel, she could  _ breathe _ . 

Which she did, and then teasingly replied up to the standing woman. “I am terribly sorry, my Lord. If I have caused you  _ any  _ discomfort, I do have a healing salve located in my quarters.” 

Ancalaga bent down towards her, reaching for her robes. Victrix’s breath quickened. The taller woman fisted them, and lifted her up with ease- as if Victrix weighed no more than a gizka. Victrix swallowed as she was placed on her feet- this woman could snap her in half like a twig. Ancalaga’s lips twitched. “We don’t have time for that at the moment. I’ve been sent to fetch you for the War Council.”

Rage rippled through her veins. When was the last time she had felt this furious? The sudden intensity of emotion shocked her. There was no reason for it, she was sent here to perform an important duty, both for her Master and for the Empire. So then why was she so  _ angry _ ? She bit back the urge to break something, and replied to the blonde. “Well, fetch me you have. Let’s not keep them waiting.” And walked past her to the ship’s war chambers.

The meeting passed by in a blur, though Victrix did manage to add her voice to the strategizing here and there, earning her some surprised looks. Honestly, it appeared that some of these people had never been on a battlefield before. She had expected differently in this day and age. Why did they have inexperienced generals on a mission to break an important blockade? Ancalaga was quiet throughout the meeting. Victrix wondered if she had ever commanded men on this scale before- speaking of which, why was the rest of the Dark Council set to attend to the support lines of the skirmish, and only Ancalaga was placed on the front? Wouldn’t it be better sense for a more experienced commander to lead the battalions in that area? It came to her suddenly- someone of high authority, possibly on the Council itself, was trying to kill Ancalaga. Her lips tightened. It couldn’t be Venethal- he had sent her here to spy on the woman, not to kill her. Who then? She’d have to investigate this further. 

By and by the assembly ended, and Victrix was easily able to catch Ancalaga’s attention and lead her off to the side. “Have some time for that salve now, my Lord?” She needled the woman.

Ancalaga smirks at her and crosses her arms. “My feet have been rather sore lately.”

“Oh? And here I thought it was my turn.”

And with that she turned and led the way to her room.

As they entered her quarters (moderately safe, previously checked for bugs) she dropped the guise of playfulness. “You do realize someone is trying to kill you, right?”

Ancalaga paused in taking off her cloak. “What?”

“Likely someone on the Dark Council. It’s a given, when you realize the fact that the youngest and most inexperienced member is the only one located directly on the war front. They’d have to be high up the ladder to pull the strings of this particular instrument.” 

The other woman crossed her arms. “Better men than the  _ Dark Council _ ,” her tone mocked the order, “have tried and  _ failed _ .”

“Well,” Victrix replied, “Better you know than not, so you can at least be prepared for it.” She fought back a smile as she made her way to the tiny fresher adjacent to her quarters, grabbing the ointment. “You should also know that Venethal sent me here to spy on you.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

As Victrix walked back to her tiny couch and placed her feet in Ancalaga’s lap, she explained Venethal’s reasoning and they spoke about his machinations and Tokrev as the woman worked at her feet. She was obviously unpracticed, though she seemed to have a basic grasp of the anatomical pressure points as she worked. The clumsiness of the massage didn’t bother her- the feel of Ancalaga’s hands was enough to pool heat in her lower body, and the drag of her calluses made keeping her breathing steady difficult.  _ Lust _ . Victrix was feeling  _ lust  _ for Ancalaga, a heady and powerful passion. She hoped it didn’t show on her face, but it felt so good to simply sink into the depths of that emotion after spending months in a bleak world.

Eventually it came to a good stopping point- and by good stopping point Victrix felt that if she let Ancalaga continue she wouldn’t be able to continue to hide her emotions, so Victrix offered to make tea. Then cafe. Apparently she had no strong feelings about either, which was curious to her. “Tell me about something you do feel strongly about then,” she requested as she made tea for them both. 

Victrix was stunned as Ancalaga told her about being a Mandalorian. But as she thought about it, it made more and more sense, like a piece of a puzzle slotting itself into place. The other woman’s words pulled her out of her thoughts. ”It will be interesting going home like this. I have not been there in… quite awhile, and this was not how I expected to return.”

“How do you think your people will react to you when you defeat them in battle?” Victrix was curious. She was vaguely familiar with the idea of warlike Mandalorians, but the ones of her time had been staunch pacifists. She wonders how Ancalaga would react to that knowledge- probably poorly, if she believed her at all.

“I’ve been defeating my people in battle since I could hold a blade. It will be no different now that I hold it in service to the Empire. I hope that they will have the good sense to return to the fold when defeated. I would like to put their skills to use.”

“How did you become a Mandalorian Jedi?” Victrix asked. The very thought of it seemed like an oxymoron. She stayed quiet as Ancalaga explained, simply adding the leaves to the now boiling water.

“Life as a Mandalorian is rough. It is hard. It is difficult. There are many Mandalorians-” Ancalaga’s voice cut off. It was obvious she was fighting for the correct words to make Victrix understand. “Those who walk the way of the Mandalore do not often acknowledge the ability of those who do not.” Bitterness steeped her tone like the leaves steeped the water. “It is a challenge and a struggle to earn a place amongst them if you do not follow their ways. It can be done, but it is very difficult. I like to think of my joining the Jedi Order as a rebirth?” Ancalaga’s forehead furrowed. “Yes, a rebirth. I was not raised in the order as were many, but I was young enough to understand the Jedi teachings and know them wholeheartedly.”

That reminded Victrix- “Huyang!”

Ancalaga startled, looking at Victrix like she was speaking nonsense. “What?”

“I had almost forgotten to ask you. Does Huyang teach the Padawans about lightsabers now?”

“What?”

Victrix smiled. “That answers my question, thank you.”

Ancalaga huffed with mild irritation. “Is the tea ready?”

Victrix was pouring them cups as she spoke. “It is indeed.” She walked over and passed Ancalaga her cup, then gestured to the woman to prop her feet up on Victrix’s lap, which she did quickly- quite eagerly, in fact. Victrix smiled as she removed the woman’s boots, which were a different style than the last, and though heavier and thicker much easier to remove. As she began to work the salve into Ancalaga’s feet she picked the conversation back up. “You seem to embrace life as a Sith quite easily…”

Ancalaga shrugged and explained to her the difficulties she had faced within the Order, and the constraints she felt under, and the freedom to be found in the Sith code. Victrix related to her troubles, but then Ancalaga said words which she found quite… provocative. “Any slave can earn a place amongst the Sith if they take it.” And she nodded at Victrix.

Victrix’s lips twisted with derision. “Ah, yes, the Sith adoration of eternal conflict. Is it any wonder that the Jedi have defeated the Sith in every major war as of yet? Their order may die slowly of stagnation, but we eat each other alive and wonder at our failures.”

She looked up from working on Ancalaga’s arch (spinal point, have to make sure the coming combat won’t lock up her flexibility) when she felt the utter sense of violence radiate from Ancalaga. Her expression was- well, it wasn’t  _ nice _ , that’s for certain. 

The blonde woman spoke. “Following the Sith way has brought me more freedom- more power- than any path that I have followed yet. I will advise you,” She added disdainfully, “to keep your opinions hidden from those on the Council. They may not be as  _ friendly  _ as I am. And here I thought you’d finally learned something.”

Well if that wasn’t the most condescending thing Victrix had ever heard! “Ah yes, because leaping from one ideaology to the other without criticizing it-”

Ancalaga interrupted her. “Oh, there is much to criticize about the Sith way, but I will defend it so long as it serves me.”

“And you are welcome to do so, just as I am welcome to criticize. That is our freedom, correct?” Victrix raises an eyebrow at her. 

Ancalaga looks extremely disgruntled, but she does nod at Victrix. The Miraluka sighs, trying to fix the mood. “I can see that I’ve upset you. If you’ve more to say on the topic I would listen to your words. I am simply not staunchly entrenched in either ideology, and do not believe that doing so will bring myself any true pleasure.”

Ancalaga pulls her feet from Victrix’s lap, and sits up to look at her seriously. “Let me ask you a question. Let me genuinely ask you a question. You don’t have to- but I would like you to- genuinely tell me the truth. Why are you  _ here _ ?” She opens her hands on that last word, emphasizing it. 

Victrix ponders the question for a bit, working the remaining salve into her hands, hoping to be able to answer this with some guise of composure- and isn’t this a wonder, having to fight for composure, once more having a full range of  _ feeling _ . “You’ve asked me to answer honestly, and in keeping with how you’ve genuinely answered my questions I feel that I can do no less for you, though my answer will no doubt reveal quite a few weaknesses of mine, which you may or may not despise.” She’s not happy about this at all ( _ upset _ , something has truly  _ upset  _ her), but she supposes that Ancalaga is due some answers. “I am  _ here _ ,” She mimics Ancalaga’s gesture, “Because there are those that I lov- that I cared for, that have been lost to me. I seek the... power to ensure that I never have to lose another like that, and I’ve found that the Sith share ‘forbidden knowledge’,” Her tone ridiculed the phrase, “At least slightly more openly than the Jedi. In addition,  _ here  _ lies the power to correct my previous failures, and perhaps- perhaps prevent the loss of those that should have never left.” Her voice was hoarse at the end.

Ancalaga leaned closer. “Who? Who did you not want to lose?”

Victrix took a breath. This is not what she had wanted to discuss- she does not even want to think about her loss, let alone acknowledge it, but Ancalaga… Sod it all. “My master. My men. And my Padawan.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“And you think, learning these 'forbidden techniques’ will bring them back? What’s dead is dead, you can’t get beyond that.” Ancalaga made a sharp gesture with her hand. 

Victrix felt frustration tear at the remaining shreds of her composure. How  _ dare  _ Ancalaga dismiss her losses, shrugging them off as if there’s nothing to be done, as if they can’t be fixed, and Victrix owes it to them to fix it, because nobody should have to pay for  _ her  _ mistakes- “You say that, but there are Force spirits that exist beyond death, that have cheated it out of it’s due-” Ancalaga takes a breath to interrupt her, but she continues, raising her voice- “spirits  _ both  _ light and dark. There are techniques to bring those who have fallen back- it is rare, but the Jedi have those among their number who can accomplish such a task. And the  _ future _ ,” she hisses that word, “is  _ always  _ malleable.”

Anaclaga starts to chuckle, then laughs outright and shakes her head. “I did not think to find such naivety in you. Sure,” she nods, “you can restart someone’s heart, if it has not rotted away. Sure you can attach your will to a place or a thing and certainly antagonize those who interact with it.” Her tone  _ ridiculed  _ Victrix’s words. “The Force is a tool. It has a will of its own, it has a- a great destiny for everyone in store. But like any other tool it can be remade, it can be reshaped, it can be worked with, or around. I think you’re wasting your time. I’ve lost too much. I’ve seen and had too many bad things happen. I think- I  _ know  _ that the only thing that matters is your will and the strength to carry it out. In fact, I will show you what strength and will can accomplish during the course of this campaign.” And she stood, and looked down upon Victrix, as if she was an ignorant child who needed saving, who needed to be taught the correct course, who needed to be guided and  _ coddled _ . 

Victrix could have killed Ancalaga in that moment.

She takes a breath. And then another, gathering her thoughts to strike back. She would not take that kind of blow lying down, belly up for beasts to feast on.

“I find it  _ interesting _ ,” Victrix bites the words out, “That while you mock me,  _ nothing  _ of what you said directly contradicts my desires. You are exactly correct in that the Force is a tool, even a crutch for some. But as you said, it can be reshaped so long as you have ‘your will and the strength to carry it out’.” Word-for-word, Victrix mocked Ancalaga with her own beliefs and stood up from her seat. “We will see in time if I possess what I need to accomplish my tasks, but in the meantime, I  _ do  _ look forward to you showing me your strength, Ancalaga.” She steps forward towards her, turning her face upwards and meeting those raging smoky eyes. “I will be  _ most  _ disappointed if you fail me here.” Her tone couldn’t be more scornful. 

Victrix felt the violence in the Force a split second before Ancalaga’s hand reached out and snatched her chin in an iron grip, pulling her up to stand on her toes, leaning down so that they were nose-to-nose. She was pressed up against Ancalaga’s chest, and if an outsider had looked in upon the scene they would no doubt appear as two lovers about to kiss. Ancalaga’s breath brushed Victrix’s lips. “ _ I don’t disappoint. _ ” She snarled the words. And then Ancalaga lets her go, grabbing her boots and leaving Victrix’s quarters barefoot once more. 

Victrix  _ burns _ . She’s not sure if it’s wrath or lust or  _ hate _ but it  _ burns  _ and she’s  _ seething  _ and she’s not sure why but her body needs to  _ move  _ and if she stands still a second longer she’s going to start  _ tearing  _ her own skin off. She deliberately leaves her lightsaber (if she picks it up again she might simply start slaughtering anyone she sees) and makes her way to the troop’s exercise rooms. Surely, someone there would be up for a spar. 

She finds more than a single spar there. Apparently many of the soldiers feel the need to burn off some steam and anxiety before the battle tomorrow. She spends the rest of the evening getting her ass kicked, and as she walks back to her quarters bloody and sweaty, with a broken nose and a dislocated shoulder it’s still not enough to soothe her. She pops her shoulder back into place, then snaps her nose back and fixes it with the dark side healing she hasn’t used in ages, and then  _ that  _ pain finally,  _ finally  _ clears her head. 

She’s still not sure if she’ll be able to sleep tonight, so after washing off the grime in a cool shower she makes a pot of chamomile tea. She’ll need it’s drowsiness-inducing properties to be able to get any rest after this hell of a day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love UST and angst. i'm sure you can tell.


	8. Chapter 8

Victrix awakens to moaning- her moaning. She realizes that her fingers have once again strayed below into uncommon territory and she rolls over and  _ screams  _ into her pillow. Months! She’d gone  _ months  _ without feeling anything, let alone these wanton emotions and at the  _ first  _ interaction with Ancalaga her brain thinks it’s appropriate to let loose the lock on the security box hidden away in her thoughts. 

After how Ancalaga had spoken to her, she absolutely refuses to finish what her sleepy hands had started. She strips and runs the fresher on the coldest setting. The iciness of the water slackens some of the inferno inside her, and she makes herself a soothing cup of tea afterwards.  _ Zen  _ was the name of this brand, and she had found in the past that it’s helped give her some. She prays that it holds true today, and perhaps her prayers are answered, because soon she’s called on deck to deal with running reports and dealing with panicking officials (why does  _ she  _ have to deal with these idiots? just because she’s a less temperamental Sith than most doesn’t mean she should always have to deal with the sensitive simpletons) and transferring emergency supplies and then after several hours of this nonsense suddenly everyone goes quiet and looks out the starboard window-

A ship had rammed into enemy lines, breaking the blockade. Physically turned itself and  _ rammed  _ into the enemy blockade! What kind of insane genius- Victrix recalls tales of Anakin Skywalker (and isn’t  _ that  _ a name she hasn’t thought of in awhile) and wonders if she’s fighting alongside one of his ancestors, and then her stomach drops out of her as she realizes with cold dread that that’s  _ Ancalaga’s  _ ship, and she swears to the Force if the last words she had spoken to the woman would be the final ones she will go absolutely psychotic-

And then everyone’s moving again, and some officer is screaming and she’s shuffling reports around and trying to keep everyone else calm (if she has to deal with  _ one more _ hysterical representative who really shouldn’t even be here she’s going to  _ snap _ ) while panic keeps her from being able to reason and she just has to take every minute at a time and why the hell didn’t she enter the battlefield with Ancalaga, she could have gotten Venethal’s leave to do so, no doubt he’d appreciate the fact that she’d want to watch the woman on the battlefield personally-

And there’s a cheering over in another section and some more panicking and apparently Ancalaga led her remaining men to forcefully board the other ship in space and has taken it over and now she’s using their own ship against them, and Victrix is recalling the reports she once read of the battles at Christophsis and-

Then there’s no more time to think as the Empire uses this moment of surprise to advance on the enemy force and their planetary blockade crumbles to pieces hour by hour, and within less than a day it’s been completely eliminated. 

After everything calms down and she has time to breathe she uses her influence to obtain reports for herself (and Venethal, but really for herself) and apparently someone managed to get the recording of the initial boarding of the enemy ship, and she watches Ancalaga  _ tear away the ship’s bulkhead with her bare hands _ . Holy bantha shit. She watches it again, and again, and again, and the sight is absolutely mesmerizing. She dares to say that she’s even  _ inspired _ , and Force she wishes she could have been there for that. 

She sends off a detailed report to Venethal about it all and then stays up half the night analyzing every single moment she’s ever spent with Ancalaga. The woman on the ship who had held her tenderly when she first dropped out of the Umbra and the woman who by all reports  _ brutally  _ defeated enemy troops- enemy troops consisting of  _ her own people _ \- seemed so very disparate from each other. Ancalaga was so very  _ layered _ , and all Victrix wanted to do was pull her apart, piece by piece, to find out what makes her tick. 

\---

She feels a hand grip her arm and forcefully turn her around. She doesn’t fight it. “So,” Ancalaga purrs at her, “Did I disappoint you?”

She had heard Ancalaga come in, strutting like a peacock proud of it’s feathers. She supposes that Ancalaga, contrary to the peacock, had earned the right to strut. 

She had already calculated her replies the night before, formulated against several likely questions- this being the one she expected most. “Oh Ancalaga, I must say that your performance was positively… inspirational. Not the best I’ve seen, of course, but really, you  _ know  _ you didn’t disappoint.”

“Not the best you’ve seen?  _ Not the best you’ve seen _ ?” Ancalaga looks torn between stunned and furious, and she seizes Victrix’s robes and shoves her up against the wall, snarling at her face to face.

Victrix could almost laugh. Finally, finally she was getting a read on this woman. Their last interaction had given too much away of Ancalaga to Victrix, and now she was actually learning this woman’s buttons. She had designed that blow to strike, and strike true it did. “No, but you have potential.”

Ancalaga barks out her next words. “Who’s the best?”

This time Victrix couldn’t contain her soft laughter. “Oh, you wouldn’t know him.” She knew it. She  _ knew  _ Ancalaga would immediately discard her first praise and chomp down on the singular criticism like a rabid kath hound. 

“I don’t care if I don’t know him, but I'll find him, and  _ prove  _ that I can do better.” Ancalaga’s grip is painful, but the position that they’re in is worth the pain. Ancalaga is pressed up against Victrix, her face inches away from her, her body shoved so far up against hers that she’s in between Victrix’s thighs, thighs which she could easily wrap around the furious woman. She shoves that thought back into the security box where it belongs, but that doesn’t stop the heat from pooling in her belly.

Victrix cocks her head at the other woman. “I don’t think you understand. He isn’t of this time.” Perhaps one day, thousands of years in the future, she will meet the Hero With No Fear face to face, but for now it will remain an impossible task. 

Ancalaga gives her a hard, searching stare, as if Victrix would lie to her about something like this. Not likely.

The blonde sets back on her feet and dusts her hands off, disgruntled. “Then I guess we play the waiting game.”

“That would certainly be a battle I’d like to see.” And Victrix would love to witness something like that. From the holo videos she’s seen in the reports she was allowed to view as General, Anakin Skywalker is a force of nature, and she’s truly curious to see how he’d match up against the woman standing before her. 

Ancalaga still doesn’t seem impressed. “I can’t exactly defeat somebody who hasn’t been born yet.”

Victrix agrees with her, but teases her all the same. “No, you can’t. But what you can do is improve. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you when you’ve shown me the most impressive sight I’ve seen.” And a thought strikes Victrix, suddenly and without mercy. She realizes that she’s lied to Ancalaga. The most impressive thing she’s seen has not been from Anakin Skywalker’s many exploits. The most impressive thing she’s seen in holo vid or in person is easily trumped by one singular instance- watching Darth Furion shove that terrible Force spirit back into Ky’Tara’s kyber crystal like a whipped hound. Goosebumps break across Victrix’s body. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so quick to encourage Ancalaga to gain strength. 

Ancalaga breaks her now jumbled mess of thoughts when she huffs at Victrix like a hound, then demands, “If I’m not the most impressive thing you’ve seen, at least tell me what you’ve thought about my performance.” She lifts an eyebrow at her in expectation. 

Victrix is struck by the- the neediness, almost, that Ancalaga has for praise. Victrix would be happy to oblige her (there really is a lot to admire about the woman), but then she realises that if she praises Ancalaga unconditionally, she’ll steal it away contentedly (like a hound finally getting its bone and leaving to chew on it in the corner) and leave Victrix wanting for more. Both yesterday and today's actions of the woman before her had screamed out one thing to Victrix- Ancalaga loves a challenge. Well, Victrix would be happy to oblige, so- criticism first, then compliments. “Do you expect me to praise you like a lady with her loyal knight? Applauding you unconditionally for your conquests? I’m afraid you haven’t brought me a trophy proving your valour.” And what a concept  _ that  _ was- what would Victrix do if Ancalaga brought her the severed heads of her enemies, or helmets taken from their corpses, or trophies won in battle? Victrix didn’t consider herself a violent woman except where needs must, but the idea of Ancalaga committing violence for  _ her  _ was frighteningly appealing. What was wrong with her? “But what I  _ thought _ , is that your plan was excellent improvisation, and will save many Sith lives and a great deal of resources in the long run, and when I saw how you opened that bulkhead, well, that was breathtaking.”

Ancalaga takes a step back, and Victrix already misses the intimacy of the moment. “Breathtaking is good, but as for a lady and her knight-” Ancalaga’s eyes narrow at her. “You seem to not understand which one of us is in command here. I’ll remedy that before too long.” And with that, she leaves, and all the colour runs out of Victrix’s world as the familiar feeling of  _ feeling nothing _ returns. Well, living was nice while it lasted. 

\---

The next few months passed predictably. The lingering miasma of indifference remained, broken only briefly in scant minutes at a time. Her world remained grey, lacking the flavour of emotion. When she finally arrived planet side to help command troops, this was to her advantage. At first she was assigned to help Lord Drethel and his squadron, organizing supplies, helping plan troop movements, basic secretarial work. Then, a couple months into the conflict, the Mandalorians broke the Sith hold over a small encampment- Drethel panicked and fled, ordering her to stay in charge. 

She supposes that for a more inexperienced commander, that might have been a death sentence. But she was incapable of feeling fear, and her thoughts were calm and clear when she ordered a tactical retreat, and then managed to ambush the forces that had followed them, leaving the encampment open once more ripe for the picking, and pick she did. The slaughtered the troops that had killed their brethren, and upon retaking the station, she was promoted to a strategic command position in Ancalaga’s squadron.

The Mandalorian woman always led from the front, displaying an astonishing ability to clear out a path for her soldiers to follow. What she didn’t display was a large amount of tactical knowledge, but that was to Victrix’s advantage. Victrix pointed, Ancalaga eliminated. Tokrev was similar in nature- at first it was obvious that he held a grudge against her for his father choosing Victrix as an apprentice over him, but a few months pass and they settle into a grudging mutual respect. 

Over time, Ancalaga even becomes something of a propaganda hero for the Empire here. Victrix thought it was a smart move- Ancalaga was beautiful, brutal, and downright inspiring to watch in battle. It was something of a hobby of hers to collect recordings of her fights. She used the excuse of spying on her for Venethal, but in reality she just loved to watch Ancalaga. When the call came out for video and holo submissions to promote the Mandalorian campaign for the Empire, Victrix sent over several edits she had created of the woman to the Marketing team, along with music suggestions for the background. She was very pleased when not only were her suggestions followed and disseminated, she was also monetarily rewarded for doing so. 

She made it a point to requisition good things for her men, who were made up of the soldiers who had come with her upon her promotion and Ancalaga’s squadron. She made certain that they had not just their necessary supplies, but also things to better their situation here- spices for foods so their rations didn’t taste like dirt, newer blankets so they didn’t have to be cold at night, more tents so they didn’t have to cram in shoulder to shoulder, she even managed to get her hands on a few dejarik boards and pazaak decks so they could have something to do other than to shoot shit in their spare time. This made her well-liked among the men, and she found that she was very comfortable here. It reminded her of that last year of home, travelling on the ship with her clones and her Padawan. Honestly, if she had only had a portable library with her, she might have even been… happy. 

She saw Ancalaga often, though not in private. Mostly it was just in war councils and before issuing battlefield positions. Tokrev was usually at her side. The Sith male had gained a reputation for being brutal and unhinged on the battlefield, and off the battlefield had a sharp temper. She made sure to update Venethal on his son’s progression of battle skill, but could say nothing positive about anything else regarding him. 

Six months passed during the campaign, and eventually they had come to the final holdout of the Mandalorians. The day before they win the siege, Ashan arrives with the puppet leader they’ll be placing to control the planet. She manages to gain a night alone with the Sith woman to catch up, and they discuss the campaign, and Venethal, and Victrix finds out that while the other woman is here on Venethal’s orders, she’s also here searching for something of her own, though she won’t tell Victrix what it is. The Miraluka doesn’t push her too hard, but does let her know that she’s here if she wants help. After that they part, and Victrix continues helping with the war campaign the next few days. 

At last, the city completely falls, though there are remaining guerilla holdouts on the planet, their puppet leader will eventually be able to snuff them out with the Empire’s help. A party is held in celebration in the officer’s tent, and after a few hours Victrix is ready to leave, until she spies Ancalaga walk in, accompanied by Tokrev. Her armour is still coated in filth and gore, and for once in her life she looks tired. She gives the blonde a little bit to settle in before assaulting her for company (and also waits for the Sith male to leave her and engage another warrior in a dialogue regarding battle one-up-manships), and then fetches them drinks. As she approaches the woman she finds that she’s- well, she’s not holding a conversation so much as being talked at by some irritating sycophant. When Victrix gets there, she slowly slides in between the two, trying to save Ancalaga the burden of getting rid of the fool, but then Ancalaga holds up a hand to him and speaks to the man. “If you don’t leave my sight in the next thirty seconds I’m going to do to you what I’ve been doing to this city all day.”

The Sith officer puffs up like a porg. “Don’t you-”

“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Ancalaga counts. The man scurries away.

Victrix speaks as she hands Ancalaga a drink. “That seemed like an incredibly dull conversation.”

“I’ve met thumbtacks sharper than him.” Ancalaga’s voice sounds exhausted.

The Miraluka frowns at her. “When was the last time you rested?”

The taller woman looks down at her, “How does the old saying go? No rest for the wicked? I haven’t needed to take a break. My hate keeps me strong, and boy do I hate this place.” Her lips twist into a sneer as she drags out the word boy.

Victrix raises her eyebrows, not that anyone could see them behind her eye covering. “Care to elaborate on a specific reason? I thought you wanted to put the skills of these people to use.”

Ancalaga exhales and leans against a tent pole- it groans under the woman’s weight. “The skills of these people are a benefit to both the Empire and to Mandalore as a whole. That doesn’t mean that I have to like the planet. I have too much history here to ever feel comfortable coming home.” She shakes her head to get her thoughts in order. “I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. I haven’t had enough to drink for this.”

Victrix smiles at her. “Let’s fix that.”

“Can I have a shower first?” Ancalaga’s tone is dry.

Yes, the other woman probably would want a shower. Victrix certainly would if she were in Ancalaga’s shoes. “I can meet you at your rooms with a bottle of the good stuff, if you’d like?”

She looks her up and down. “That depends on what you consider the good stuff.”

“Would you prefer the terrible one that tastes like engine fluid or the nice one that tastes like marinated ass?”

Ancalaga shrugs at her. “I don’t care. One will kill you quicker than the other, but as far as inebriation goes, they’re equally potent.”

Why did Ancalaga ask her what she considers the good stuff if she doesn’t care? “I’ll grab them both then and meet you there.” 

The other woman drains her cup and passes it to Victrix. “Alright then.” 

Victrix watches her leave, then goes to grab a bottle of each. The droid attending the bar goes to protest, until Victrix makes it known that she’ll have him broken down into spare parts if he gets in her way. As she grabs some clean glasses and goes to leave, Ashan catches her attention in the corner, making a motion at Victrix to come hither.

Victrix hithers thusly and greets the woman, who looks at her with a serious face. “You mentioned the other day that you were willing to help me in my… endeavor.”

Oh, an answer to appease Victrix’s curiosity. Victrix loves answers. “I was and still am, Ashan. I’m certain that I’ll find whatever it is as fascinating as you yourself do.”

The Sith woman doesn’t smile at Victrix, but her face does soften. “Excellent then. The day after tomorrow I have an archaeological expedition with a small force. If you could accompany me, I would appreciate it. We’ll be leaving at the latest in the early afternoon- it’s a long shuttle flight out.”

Victrix nods at her. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“You as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> questions? concerns? leave a comment and i'll reply~


End file.
